


An Impish Dark Creativity

by AspenCe



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Completed, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Angst, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders-centric, Flashbacks, Fluff, Gen, I’m bad at fluff, More angst than expected, Non-Sexual Age Play, OC Side but not really, Past Violence, Recovery, Some Humor, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, everyone is sympathetic, i guess, past captivity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 34,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26351899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AspenCe/pseuds/AspenCe
Summary: Remus isn’t on good terms with any of the Sides, but they won’t let that stop them from getting their dose of cuddles and playtime - !In other words, they regress; and when they do, they look and act almost like a completely different Side. None of the others know, but they do know that Imp is adorable and deserves all the love in the world.
Comments: 185
Kudos: 194





	1. Chapter 1

Virgil was listening to MCR on his noise-cancelling headphones, scrolling through Tumblr while sitting on his dresser -  _ yes _ , his  _ dresser _ , it was  _ comfortable _ , okay? - when there was a knock on his door, tapping out the first two lines of “All Star.” 

Perking up, he slid off the dresser -  _ yes _ , the  _ dresser, _ didn’t we  _ just _ clear this up? - and took off his headphones. For the first time since that morning, he clicked off his phone, sticking it in his pocket as he pulled the door open.

Bouncing on the heels of their subtly sparkly black boots, wearing a loose outfit that started silvery-white at the collar and sleeves and swirled into shimmery black by the legs, with a lime-green-mesh cape slit down the middle over their shoulders, was Imp. Their eyes were a bright emerald-green, and they had a dusting of sparkly silver freckles over their nose, and  _ yes _ , they were incredibly adorable, especially since they looked to be no older than nine. 

Imp wasn’t exactly a Side - nor a Fragment, nor a Figment. No one really knew  _ what _ they were; but there was a general consensus that Imp was cute and adorable and very much a prankster, and no Side would pass up an opportunity to destress and play with them, so no one really minded all that much. (Well Logan minded, and had stayed up for a whole week trying to put together a reasonable hypothesis when Imp had first appeared, but per Patton’s request, he’d let it go.)

It wasn’t often that Imp showed up (and since no one could figure out what their purpose was, they couldn’t go visit them), and when they did, they usually went to Roman for entertainment. Virgil though, despite everyone’s bafflement, was Imp’s second choice.

And he was  _ not  _ going to pass this up.

“Hey,” he greeted, and immediately was tackled to the ground by a decidedly hyper Imp, who had no qualms whatsoever against pinning him to the floor, beaming happily.

“Vee-Vee! I wanna play! Ro-Ro’s in the ‘Magi-nation, ‘n I wanna do some-ting!” 

Virgil chuckled and started to get up, and Imp got off of him without complaint. He brushed himself off and grinned. “You in an adventure mood or an artistic mood, Fae?”

Imp hummed in response, practically vibrating with energy as they grabbed Virgil’s hand and started tugging him downstairs, probably forgetting to answer in their bubbly excitement. 

When the two practically toppled into the living room, Patton looked up from his scrapbooking with a confused look that quickly changed into a playful smile at the sight of the little Side. While everyone thought he was at least a  _ little  _ jealous of how Imp favored basically any Side over him, Virgil knew that he was sincerely happy for them and actually relaxed a lot more since the responsibility didn’t fall on him for once. 

Imp led Virgil to the couch and bounced in place a couple times before snuggling in and saying in that all-too adorably firm voice of theirs, “I wanna watch Cauldron!”

Chuckling, Virgil held Imp close, wrapping his arm around them familiarly as he snapped his fingers to put on Black Cauldron, which  _ just _ so happened to be both their favorite movie.

“Got it, fae - want some popcorn too?” 

Imp nodded and squealed happily when Virgil summoned a big bowl of popcorn, flavored with hot sauce, just how they liked it. 

“‘Tank oo Vee-Vee!” 

He smirked, not-so-secretly enjoying the feeling of having a literal ball of cuteness and warmth cuddling him, and ruffled Imp’s hair before settling in to watch the movie. 

And if Patton joined the cuddle party a few minutes later, neither of them minded. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into how the Sides treat Remus compared to Imp....

_ Remus popped up behind the TV, wanting to ask whoever was nearby if they could stay overnight, because their room was really, really cold for some reason - and they couldn’t even fix it! It was like, 40 degrees!  _

_ But as soon as they were seen - which was immediately - everyone was yelling at them and Roman was pointing his sword at their chest and even  _ Janus _ wrinkled his nose in disgust.  _

_ With the shouted words of  _

**_Villain_ **

**_Evil_ **

**_Bad_ **

**_Leave_ **

**_Wrong_ **

**_Go Away_ **

_ -ringing in their ears and pounding into their skull, they disappeared into their room. It was cold… why didn’t they let them talk? …they just wanted to be warm…  _

_ - _

Imp tackled Ro-Ro in a hug while the older Side chuckled and hugged them back, the vibrations of his voice making them giggle. They vaguely remembered it being cold in their room and getting yelled at - but they purposely didn’t think about that, because yelling was only for older them! When they were little, no one yelled, no matter what.

They didn’t let go of Ro-Ro all throughout their adventure in the Imagination, not a single time. He was warm.

Imp giggled when he showed them a river that went backwards and had bright pink sharks that made funny sounds in it. Ro-Ro always made the funniest things for them! 

-

_ Remus looked in the fridge for something edible to eat. They didn’t have a fridge in their room, and deodorant could only get them so far before the hunger pains stopped them from doing anything mildly interesting or fun. (Not much was fun anymore.)  _

_ They didn’t really want to eat the leftover pea soup that Patton had made, probably a few days ago - peas were nasty. But… they’d take what they could get. _

_ “Halt, fiend!” _

_ Or not.  _

_ Remus backed away from the fridge with an unhinged grin and empty eyes as their brother advanced on them with anger in his eyes. _

_ They didn’t know why they bothered anymore. They just vanished, once again curling up in a corner of their room to cry, shivering in the cold that could and did freeze all the water in their room. _

_ They didn’t feel even slightly fuzzy just then… but when they concentrated really, really hard they managed to force it to settle down over their mind. _

-

“I’m hungry!” Imp chirped, popping up in Lo-Lo’s arms and booping him on the nose with a giggle and a squirm. 

Lo-Lo, to his credit, barely stumbled at their sudden appearance, taking it in stride and smiling down at them in the quiet way that only he could achieve. He changed his course from his room to the kitchen, and set Imp down on the counter while he rummaged through the fridge.

Imp giggled again and swung their legs, kicking the cabinets in a  _ thud-thud  _ pattern. They didn’t miss the fond expression on Patt’s face as he walked by.

They remembered being hungry and being yelled at and Patt looking at them angrily - but they didn’t worry about it. Only Remus was yelled at! Only Remus had to be hungry! Imp could do anything the other Sides could do, and more, and they didn’t have to be upset about something that had never happened to them while they were like this.

They saw Lo-Lo warm up the pea soup in the microwave, and a wave of questions made them jump up so that they were standing on the counter.  _ Why does the thingy spin? Is it radioactive? What happens if you leave the door open? Do eggs really explode in microwaves? I wanna try! What does being in a microwave feel like? What -  _

The microwave beeped, distracting Imp from their thoughts.

They bounced and hopped down, grabbing the bowl and spilling it a little as they ran to the table to start eating. 

-

_ Twenty-one degrees. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little (get it?) fluffy interlude!

“Patt! Patt! Lookit, I drew a pic-ture!” 

Patton turned away from the cartoon playing on the TV and smiled brightly at Imp, who was holding up a page covered in red and brown scribbles that were completely indecipherable and couldn’t possibly be anything except abstract. 

“It’s so pretty!” he gushed, taking the drawing and making a big show of looking at  _ everything  _ on it. “I love the red! It goes so well with the brown and the black!” 

Imp, oblivious to Patton’s obliviousness, beamed and flapped their hands happily, giggling and running off to presumably color another picture. And, of course, leaving Patton with a very confusing compilation of scribbles. 

He smiled fondly and stood up, heading to the kitchen to stick the picture to the fridge. It was nice, to see a kid running around and making everyone smile, yet not having to deal with teaching life lessons, forcing them to eat broccoli, or having to feign being responsible enough to deal with spiders. Yeah… maybe that was a bit selfish of him, but as Janus would say, “Self-care is not a joke!” 

Patton giggled at the recollection, and he didn’t even know why. It wasn’t even funny! Oh well. 

Just as Patton was leaving the kitchen to go finish watching his episode of Gravity Falls, Imp jump-scared him with another (somewhat wrinkled) drawing, this time with a lot of yellow and blue.  _ Maybe it’s the sky?  _

Patton gasped and smiled, taking the drawing and once again gushing over all the details. 

When that part was over (okay he already acknowledged that being able to lie was useful but this was giving him an all-new appreciation for Janus’ function), he asked excitedly, “Kiddo, did you draw this for me?” 

Imp nodded enthusiastically and bounced in place before rushing off again, and Patton smiled as he went back into the kitchen to put up their newest drawing next to the other one. He didn’t bother going back to the living room - he knew that Imp would be interrupting him every five minutes with a new drawing for at least another hour or two. It was adorable, and made Patton want to squeal with delight; and nothing in the world would ever make him want to take a break from the little (mischievous) angel. 

-

Imp was so happy! Patt said he loved their drawings, and he noticed all the little things too! They had so many ideas flying through their mind, and Patt would love them, and they couldn’t help but bounce, bounce, bounce because there was just so much  _ energy  _ and they were just so happy! 

They grabbed the pink crayon and started drawing a heart shape with their fist.  _ Ooh! What if! What if! What if it’s all yellow and green instead a’ red? Like a snakey bit it and it’s dying!  _ Imp giggled and grabbed a green crayon with their other hand, coloring in a big circle in the middle of the heart shape.  _ Oh! Oh! Oh! And it’s bleeding too! Like some-un stabbed it with a spoon!  _ They let go of the pink crayon and dug through the crayon box for a bit before finding the red one and making a U-shape.  _ And it got hit with a dart!  _ They made an indentation in the heart with a yellow crayon and stuck their tongue out in concentration.  _ And it’s hanging from a string!  _

They dropped their crayons and picked up the drawing ecstatically, a wide grin on their face and a  _ lot _ of bounces and flaps inside of them. 

They ran up to Patt, who was sitting at the eating table, and eagerly shoved their drawing forward, giggling and feeling even  _ happier _ when Patt’s whole face lit up and he squealed loudly, “I LOVE IT!!!” 

Imp started hopping around the table, because there were just so many giggles and flaps and energy inside of them that they had to get it out or they’d explode. Patt  _ loved  _ it! He loved it! He actually  _ loved it!  _

They tackled him in a squeezing surprise hug as soon as Patt put the drawing on the fridge, right in the middle. 

* _ bonus _ *

As soon as Patton saw the drawing, he could tell what it was, and it was the most coherent,  _ adorable _ , absolutely-giving-him-a-cuteness-overload thing that he’d ever seen! 

Because it was the letter ‘I’ above a pink heart ( _ love) _ with a yellow ‘Y', a green ‘O’, and a red ‘U’! 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand back to angsty plotness!

Remus threw up, their stomach convulsing and a sour taste filling their mouth. Normally, they would’ve delighted in the grossness of it all, but they felt anything but happy.

They leaned against the wall opposite of the toilet, groaning. To make matters worse, they had a splitting headache from the forced changing, and they  _ knew  _ they wouldn’t be able to do that again anytime soon. …Which also meant that they had to deal with being sick and  _ freezing _ alone. 

They’d lit a bonfire in their room a few days ago (it had gone out a couple hours ago), so thankfully the water in the sink and toilet wasn’t frozen, but that was such a  _ small  _ compensation.

_ Wish I knew  _ **_why_ ** _ my room’s so cold.  _ They coughed a laugh, and something wet landed on their hand.  _ Then maybe I could go fight it and get it to make it  _ **_warm_ ** _ again.  _

This was, counterintuitively, the happiest they’d ever been. Really! So what  _ if _ there wasn’t a Dark Side anymore, and they had no access to the commons that they’d relied on for food and  _ sanity? _ So what  _ if _ Deceit stopped having to tolerate them and suddenly left them alone again? As Remus, it was true that they weren’t in a remotely nice situation - but they could still be Imp!

When they were Imp, Patton actually liked their drawings. Roman took them to the Imagination. Logan read them books. Virgil watched movies with them. Deceit - Janus - played with them. They got hugs, and food, and smiles, and it was the best thing that had ever happened to them.

Sometimes they wished that they didn’t have to be Remus at all. 

_ It would be nice to not have to be me…  _

They closed their heavy eyes, feeling so… numb… and snapped them open again.

_ No! No no no! It’s too cold - cold to sleep, I have to get… get out of here! Where do I go? I need to - to - to - I need to be small! _

Remus grabbed the fleeting fogginess in their mind and yanked it down over them, sending an almost  _ searing  _ pain shooting through their head and down their spine. It made black spots eat away at the corners of their vision, but before they did anything else they teleported to the commons.

-

Janus was reading on the couch when there was a soft  _ thud _ and he looked up.

He dropped his book and rushed to Imp’s side -  _ god they’re freezing, why are they so cold!?  _ \- not really comprehending much except that Imp’s lips were blue and their skin was unnaturally pale, and their whole body was trembling.

Frantic, he summoned the other Sides and lifted the little one up, carrying them to the couch. He didn’t… he didn’t  _ understand _ . He couldn’t process any of it, so he just shakily went to go find a blanket, leaving the others to help as they chose.

Imp was cold. Really,  _ really _ cold. The only other time Janus had seen a Side so frozen was when -

“D-Dee-Dee?”

He paled. 

_ It all makes sense -  _ he bit back a sob -  _ Remus never could… stand abandonment… oh god I abandoned them -  _ he’d been too relieved to not have to deal with them all the time to think about how they were doing -  _ I sh-should’ve known when Imp called me Dee-Dee - only Remus calls me that -  _ Janus couldn’t see through his blurred vision, and he didn’t bother holding back his hiccups and sobs. 

_ They could’ve died. They could’ve  _ **_died_ ** _ and we wouldn’t have known -  _

Remus had always needed validation. Without it… they grew slower and colder and colder… and then… 

  
Janus had never and  _ would  _ never want to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How should the others react, do you think? 
> 
> I might just consider it~


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Janus decides whether or not to tell the others....

Im- Rem- ? ...they slowly came back to consciousness, starting with a small itching in their head, then moving on to a tingling, prickly feeling that crawled across every inch of them and made them queasy. When the small, sharp needles were replaced with a buzzing sound that pierced their brain, they twitched in on themself, scrunching their eyes in pain.

Finally, the buzzing subsided, and Re- I- they started to notice just how  _ warm _ it was. It felt like they were wrapped in warm laundry - dirty laundry left next to a wildfire that  _ burned a house down with  _ **_hundreds of people in it and they all DIED!_ **

They giggled a little, and a pointed pain shot up their throat and made them dissolve into a coughing attack.

Once it was over, their eyes were filled with tears and their throat  _ burned _ . Feeling weak and small and scared, they burrowed further into the warm blanket ( _ not laundry… blankie… _ ) and curled in on themself. 

“Here,” said - said - someone, in a light, dry voice that sounded sad and worried. Something cold and smooth was pressed to their lips -  _ a cup _ . They drank it weakly, most of the water spilling onto… was it a couch? Yes, the couch. 

Imp - not Remus because only Imp had people who would get sad and worried for them - tried to open their eyes, but only managed to bring them open a sliver before the heavy lids fell shut again. It was enough to catch a glimpse of a blurry figure in black… with a hat.  _ Dee-Dee…  _

He leaned in close and said quietly, in a voice that Imp could barely hear, “You are loved, Remus.” 

A flicker of warmth jumped through their body, and the inner cold that they had accepted as normal loosened slightly, making them warmer than they’d ever thought possible. Because Dee-Dee said  _ Remus. _ Dee-Dee said… said… they couldn’t finish the thought, because they were already drifting off into sleep, lulled by the way the warmth was making them loopy and fuzzy.

_ Even though it’s a lie… it’s such a pretty one…  _

-

Janus sat back on his heels, feeling indescribably bad. He’d only told a small half-lie, only a four word sentence, and Remus had responded like… like it was the… best thing in the world…  _ god, I can’t even - how did I let it get this bad? _

He’d  _ known _ that Remus couldn’t be alone, and he’d still -

_ I can’t think about that right now. _ He had a better question. What was he going to do? Tell the others?

Somehow he got the feeling that Remus wouldn’t approve of that idea. And the worst part was that he knew  _ why _ . They’d all been so  _ terrible  _ to Remus, chasing them away without giving them a chance,  _ it hurt that Janus was included in that _ , and had so  _ readily  _ accepted Imp just because, what, they were  _ cuter? _ Less mature? 

It made him feel sick.

He’d brought Remus into his room when he’d found out - there was no guarantee that they would stay like Imp while they were passed out - so the two were away from the others.

_ I won’t tell them. _

_But I_ ** _will_** _make sure that Remus is treated better._

-

_ It was a sunny day in the Imagination, though there were weird green clouds in the sky, and Romulus - no, Remus and Roman - were playing - fighting? - the Dragon-Witch. Roman kept wanting to monologue, Remus wanted to smash the Dragon-Witch’s head into the ground, and suddenly they were screaming at each other in their shared mind. _

_ “Why do you always do this!?” _

__ _ “Do what!? I just wanna have fun!” _

_ “You’re ruining everything!” _

__ _ “Oh yeah? I don’t care!” _

_ “YOU NEVER DO! THAT’S THE PROBLEM!” _

__ _ “WELL YOU NEVER LISTEN TO ME!” _

**_“I HATE YOU!”_ ** _ they both screamed. _

_ Suddenly they weren’t one. They were two, and it hurt so badly, and Remus was thrown away crying and whimpering and screaming at the pain - while Roman smiled and took a deep breath, like suddenly everything was better.  _ **_It is better._ **

_ Then Remus was watching Deceit and Virgil yell at each other. _

_ Virgil left. _

_ Remus ran into their room and destroyed everything, feeling the temperature start to drop. They’d never felt so cold before… but they didn’t care. They cut, they bled, they screamed, they hit, they broke their ugly reflection, they smashed their bed, they tore up the floor, they didn’t come out - it was like they weren’t there.  _

_ When they woke up, they were cold, but Deceit was there. _

_ Deceit left. _

**_It’s so cold_ ** _. _

Imp whimpered in their sleep and let out a choked sob. “...d-don’ le-ave…  _ please _ …”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry- you won’t get to see the others’ reactions just yet, but soon (like maybe a few chapters).
> 
> So, on a scale of one to ten, how sick should Remus be?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ooh~ Logan figures it out!

Janus sat on the edge of his bed where Imp was sleeping, his head in his hands. He didn’t know what to do with the ugly taste of guilt in his mouth - he couldn’t talk to Remus because they weren’t conscious, he couldn’t talk to any of the others because that would be even  _ worse _ , he just… he didn’t know what to do.

There was a light knock on the door. “Janus, I brought some soup for Imp… are they awake?”

He stood up, running a hand through his hair before walking to the door and pulling it open to reveal a concerned Patton with a bowl of soup in his hands. Janus smiled a little. “Not right now, but I’ll be sure to give it to them when they do wake up. Thank you, Patton.”

“No problem! That’s what dads are for!” Patton said cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood, but they both knew that he wasn’t exactly happy.

Janus closed the door and sighed. He really, really wished he hadn’t fucked up so bad.

-

_ We don’t get sick naturally.  _ Logan paced his library, his appearance disheveled and his eyes narrowed.  _ The only reasons we get sick are psychological. When Janus summoned us, Imp had blue lips and pale skin, as though they were freezing. They also have a wet cough and nausea. That’s slightly similar to the sickness Virgil dealt with a few years ago as a result of touch starvation and being villainized, but that doesn’t make sense, because Imp has received plenty of touch, and has been readily accepted.  _

_ If they had a dry cough and a fever, it would be because they were overwhelmed, which would be more likely - but they don’t have either. If they were repeatedly throwing up, it would be because we were doing something that they didn’t want us to do multiple times, which would be more probable. But, again, they don’t have that.  _ He huffed.  _ They’re cold, and they have a wet cough and nausea. So somehow, Imp is touch-starved and alienated.  _

_ I suppose it could be that, since Imp only appears in the commons one day a week or so, they might be experiencing those things outside of our interactions with them. But while that makes sense, it also raises the question of why they wouldn’t just come down more often. They’re certainly not shy, very unafraid to ask for anything, and they don’t appear to have a very tiring function. They don’t appear to have a function at all, actually, though my best guess is that they’re Thomas’ “inner child” or curiosity. So what is keeping Imp from interacting with us on a more regular basis? _

Thinking back to all of his interactions with Imp, he looked for events that might’ve led to their appearance, or any sign that they weren’t as carefree as they presented. 

The answer came to him fairly quickly. The common variable was  _ Remus _ . Every time Remus appeared in the mindscape, they would chase them away, and only half an hour to two hours later, Imp would appear.

That led to one of two options - Remus was keeping Imp locked up in their room and Imp could only escape when Remus left, which was unlikely but plausible; or Remus  _ was  _ Imp. If the latter was true… Logan plopped down in his armchair and rubbed his temples. If Remus  _ was  _ Imp, then he’d made a mistake.

Remus wasn’t the kind of person to manipulate people or come up with something like this unless it was an elaborate prank. So if Remus was Imp, that meant that Remus really wasn’t trying to be bad, they were just trying to be accepted, loved.  _ And I, like a fool, ignore Remus every time they show up until they go away. The others chase them away. None of us gave them a chance. _

_ And yet… we’ve all readily accepted Imp.  _

Logan closed his eyes and sighed.

_ If Remus is Imp… do they age regress? _

He stood up so quickly he nearly fell. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm... yes or no, Logic = little? 
> 
> If yes, should anyone know?
> 
> If no, should he be a caregiver?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan talks to Janus, and someone else finds out~

Imp felt queasy and lightheaded as they sat propped up on Dee-Dee’s bed, their eyes unable to focus on any one thing before their vision slurred and they were looking at something else. 

Dee-Dee brought his hand up, and they opened their mouth slightly, whimpering at the uncomfortable jump their stomach made at the taste of tomato soup. They barely had the energy to swallow, but they did, and Dee-Dee brought the spoon to their lips again.

They felt like they were half-conscious, zoning out and unfocusing so much that they hardly registered anything that was happening.

They were just so  _ tired…  _ and it was so  _ warm…  _ and they wanted to go back to sleep because it was easier to deal with the nausea that way. 

Dee-Dee set down the spoon and set the bowl down on the nightstand. He smiled softly, slowly removing the pillows from under Imp and helping them settle in to go back to sleep.

“There… you’ll feel better when you wake up, Remus.”

-

Remus was asleep again. Janus sighed and closed his eyes for a moment - before there was a purposeful knock at his door that could only belong to Logan.

Not wanting to wake Remus, he stood up and walked across the room to open the door. As soon as he did, he noticed that Logan looked much more disheveled than usual, and he didn’t even have his necktie. He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“I - does Remus age regress?” Logan blurted out, causing Janus to step back in surprise.

_ Why - ? How does he - ?  _ He shook his head.  _ That doesn’t matter right now. _

“Come in,” he said, opening his door wider and glancing behind Logan to make sure no one else was listening. He closed the door behind them.

“So,” Janus said, conjuring a comfortable chair for Logan and taking a seat on the edge of his bed. He made sure his voice was level and quiet; he didn’t want to wake Remus. “Why do you think Remus age regresses, and why ask me?”

Logan summoned a clipboard, which made Janus want to laugh.  _ Of course he has a clipboard for this.  _

“To summarize, I analyzed the symptoms that Imp exhibits to be similar to the ones Virgil experienced when he was being ostracized and touch-starved, and noticed the similarities between Remus and Imp. Since Imp is younger than Remus, I wondered if they age regress or if it’s something else, and since you’re the only Side remotely close to Remus,” Logan paused to grimace a little, which Janus thought was interesting. “I decided that you would be the best one to ask to confirm my suspicions.” 

Janus weighed his options. 

_ I can try and convince Logan that it’s preposterous, that ‘why in the world would Remus be Imp?’ but I don’t think that’s going to play out nicely. He seems like he’s okay with the idea of them being the same person, and he also appears… remorseful? guilty? disappointed? about the way he’s treated them…  _

He sighed. “You’re right. But I’m not… I haven’t been the best to Remus either. I mean, I abandoned them. I stopped caring about them just because it was…” he cringed, “easier not to. I didn’t know until they showed up… like this…” 

Logan followed his gaze to the sleeping Side.

“Did you tell anyone else?” Janus asked finally.

He shook his head. 

“Good. We should… probably keep it that way.”

“...agreed.”

-

_ What the fuck?  _

Virgil was just, y’know, existing in his room, when he’d decided to open his door and maybe go get some food maybe. 

Then, he finds Logan outside of Janus’ door, and he asks if Remus age regresses -  _ what  _ \- and Virgil quickly closes his door again and tries to process that. 

Now he was  _ freaking out  _ because it all made  _ perfect sense  _ and he was beet-red with embarrassment and basically having a panic attack but less scared and more  _ oh fuck.  _

Remus - Imp - he’d  _ cuddled with Remus.  _

_ I cuddled  _ Remus! __

_ Oh fuck, fuck, I watched Disney with them - I did  _ coloring  _ \- I let Remus touch me!  _

_ I  _ finally  _ find someone I’m comfortable with playing with and touching - and now it turns out that someone is actually  _ Remus!?  _ The Side who I literally hate!? The one that basically  _ lives  _ in a fucking  _ trash can!? 

Virgil flopped down face-first onto his bed.

_ I’m so fucked. They’ll  _ never  _ let me live this down! _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So; Virgil appears to be more mortified than angry, but that’s only to himself~
> 
> 1-10, how mean is he to Remus?
> 
> Y/N, does he tell everyone?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus is big again, and is not doing well...

Dinner was tense. Well, even more tense than it already had been ever since Imp’s latest appearance. 

Virgil seemed off, more reserved than usual and slightly more snappish (than on average). When Roman commented on it, he just shot him down with a harsh, “shut it, Princey” followed by a muttered apology and some intense food-stabbing.

Janus was worried, glancing up every few seconds in the direction of his room, then looking towards Virgil, then at Logan, and back to his food before looking towards his room again. 

Patton seemed nervous, and kind of shaky, which was concerning. But that, at least, was easily explained away - Patton was the Heart, of  _ course  _ he would have a strong reaction to one of his Kiddos (especially the literal kiddo) getting so sick. 

But even the nerd himself, Logan the Untouchable, looked  _ distracted,  _ for lack of a better word. He kept zoning out in the way that he did whenever he was thinking really hard about something, and honestly, that was incredibly disconcerting.

Roman knew he looked awkward - he certainly  _ felt  _ awkward; not knowing what exactly had happened and feeling like he probably shouldn’t ask even though he was  _ dying  _ of curiosity, while feeling self-deprecating because  _ again,  _ no one wanted to tell  _ him _ , why  _ would they,  _ he was  _ stupid  _ and  _ useless _ anyways - so basically he felt like shit.

“Well this was fun dinner was great Patt thanks I gotta go do some, uh, imagination-stuff and things so byeeeee~!” Roman stood up and blurted his half-baked excuses before sinking out with a false smile plastered on his face. 

A smile that slipped away as soon as he was in his room. His lovely, magnificent, ornate room with reds and golds and satin that always helped him feel more princely… he sighed. He wished things could go back to being normal, simple… it was hard to try and navigate interactions when everyone seemed so on-edge. 

_ Why is Imp sick, anyway? We’re not like people, we don’t get sick for no reason.  _ He sighed again, and decided to go on a Quest - maybe not a big one, just a little one that would take his mind off everything. 

-

Remus woke up. 

_ It’s warm.  _

They scrambled to get out of the blankets, they were too soft, too fuzzy, too heavy to be theirs; this was  _ bad _ . They ignored the spinning of their vision and the coughs that tore themselves out of them. The whole room was too warm - too  _ bright  _ \- too  _ perfect  _ to be theirs, and they had to  _ get out, get out, get out! _

They tripped over themself and landed  _ hard _ on their elbow, but although they felt a sickening shift of bones and muscle, and their pinky suddenly went numb, it didn’t hurt. Remus had the highest pain tolerance out of all the Sides, after all… 

Struggling to their feet, Remus looked around frantically at the yellow-and-black themed room, just now realizing that they were in Deceit’s. 

They slammed their eyes shut and focused on all their intrusive thoughts.

_ Um… um… butts! Murdering baby chickens and grinding them alive! Cutting the skin off a cow and letting it regrow! S— in a ——— with —— and ————ing as a —————!  _

When they opened their eyes again, it was because they were suddenly  _ freezing _ . And by freezing, they meant their fingertips were already completely numb, their nose was uncomfortably cold and starting to run, their body immediately started to shiver uncontrollably, and all they wanted to do was to get out of the cold and back to the warmth.

_ But I’ll never h-have warmth again if I go like this…  _

Remus’ room was a mess. Everything was drained of color, broken, icy, shattered, gray - it was like the room of a ghost in a horror movie, except one of the best horror movies in existence because it was  _ real _ . The dried, frozen blood was real. The ripped wallpaper, the torn mattress with stained stuffing hanging out, and the carpet covered in suspicious substances and broken glass was real. The fog that rested a foot off the ground, heavy and cold and swirling, it was  _ real,  _ and so was everything else.

Remus themself was a mess, too. Their skin was gray-scale, and so was the rest of them in all honesty. Their clothes were stiff and wrinkled and stained and torn - their hair was tangled and greasy - their eyes were filled with a crazed emptiness that painfully mimicked the buzzing they used to feel.

They didn’t know  _ why  _ it was so  _ cold.  _ It had happened before, yeah, but it was just… random; and it wasn’t  _ this  _ bad. 

Suddenly they wondered what they would do if the others knew that they were Imp. 

Their lips stretched slowly, jerkily into a too-wide, broken grin, and they breathed out a pathetic laugh.  _ I’ll have nothing! Every piece of me will be broken and useless and evil and wrong and there will be  _ **_nothing_ ** _ holding me back anymore! No more  _ **_family_ ** _ no more  _ **_friends_ ** _ no more  _ **_food_ ** _ no more  _ **_sleep_ ** _ no more  _ **_LIVING_ ** _ and I’ll be  _ **_alone!_ ** _ It’s fun while it lasts, but once they find out I’ll probably go insane! Won’t that be fun? I wonder what it’ll be like! The others will probably lock me up again - stick me in a dungeon where I won’t hurt anyone.  _

For some reason, the idea didn’t even scare them. 

Their room plunged into even colder levels, and they laughed. It was high-pitched, crazed, yet  _ free  _ in a way that they’d never known was possible. There was no way they could stay in their room for another minute before they died of the cold, and they knew it.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, or suddenly, or surprisingly, Remus wasn’t willing to die yet. 

They had a play to write, after all.

In a blink, they were on the stage of a theatre they’d crafted in their sliver of the Imagination, a theatre with a high, pointed ceiling, dangling chandeliers, and rows and rows of empty seats. Pristine, eerily empty, with an atmosphere of dread that made it fit in perfectly with the tall, barren forest outside.

They were in the center, right under the ghost light, laying on their stomach. They were writing lines in dark red blood, using a quill made from the wing of a peacock, tall and poofy and over-the-top.

_ Roman’s not the only one who can be dramatic.  _

Remus giggled, their mind finally disconnected, offset, just two centimeters to the left of their reality. At least the theatre was warm, though it was still at least twenty degrees colder than the commons or the others’ rooms. 

They couldn’t help but feel like everything was falling into place, breaking off from their places in the sky and finding their graves one by one in the barren ground. They’d always known that it would end, and now there were only a few pieces left, trembling, waiting for the moment when the clouds gave way.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Everything’s going a bit faster and darker than I originally intended, but I like it. ;)
> 
> In case anyone’s confused (heck, I’m confused), Remus radiates the cold, but it’s slow enough that it only affects places if they’re there for long stretches of time, such as in their room. Since they haven’t been in their sliver of the Imagination very often recently, it’s still mostly unaffected.
> 
> I don’t know if that makes sense for how I’ve described it, but I mean, do with that what you will.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And Patton “finds out”~

Janus opened his door and found Remus gone, the blankets strewn about haphazardly. He swore under his breath and summoned Logan, knowing that wherever Remus had gone, it would be easier to find them with two people looking. 

-

Patton looked around at the suddenly empty table, feeling very alone. Roman was in the Imagination… Logan just disappeared… Janus went upstairs… Imp was sick… and when he looked towards Virgil’s spot, it was just an empty chair. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much. They all had their own things to do, there was no reason for him to feel so… alone!

He started stacking dishes, wincing at the clanking sound that seemed far too loud now that he was alone. 

_ I hope Imp gets better soon. Maybe I can go check on them after the table’s cleaned up?  _ Shaking off his disconcertingly  _ bad _ feelings, he pulled on a smile and carried the dishes to the sink. 

_ There’s probably nothing to worry about,  _ he reassured himself.  _ Imp’s going to be fine in a couple days, and Roman will come back from the Imagination with a nice story, and Logan will -  _

“Patt?” 

He jumped, startled, and was grateful that he’d already set the dishes down. He recovered, beaming at Virgil, who was sitting on the counter with a worried expression. “Hey, kiddo! You feeling okay?”

Virgil scratched his head, fidgeting anxiously. 

“Um, yeah. Yeah. But, uh, I just figured something out and…” his voice grew slightly quieter and his shoulders hunched, so Patton had to lean forward to hear the next part, “it-turns-out-that-Imp-is-actually-Remus!” 

Patton froze, drawing back slightly. 

It wasn’t surprising. It… it wasn’t surprising. Why wasn’t it surprising?  _ It should be surprising!  _

A small voice in the back of his mind said that he’d already known. It made his insides twist uncomfortably. 

Then he realized that he was talking.

“ - it’s good, that they’re not, uh, being… destructive…? Right? They’re a-a-a lot nicer as Imp… it’s better than having Remus normally… I think we should… encourage it? Maybe? I don’t…”

He trailed off uncertainly. 

Virgil’s eyes were narrowed. “You knew.”

He stepped back, laughing nervously and feeling his stomach sink. “I - I mean I didn’t  _ know  _ I knew?”

“You knew,” Virgil repeated, running a hand through his purple hair. He huffed a laugh. “Huh.”

And Patton was alone again. 

_ I knew.  _

_ Why didn’t I… why didn’t I do anything? _

He knew. Again, he knew, and it made him feel sticky and  _ wrong.  _

_ Imp is better than Remus…  _

He hated himself for thinking it.

-

Roman huffed, tugging his sword out of the body of the dire wolf and snapping away the blood and gore. He was out of breath, his heartbeat was still slowing down, and he felt, overall, better.

He was on a mountain with gray rocks and flecks of fresh snow speckling them, his princely-white outfit stained bright, wet red and torn in places. The air was cold, and thin, but it filled him with energy and vigor. He grinned. 

_ Another heroic Quest completed by none other than I, Prince Roman! I can’t wait to tell Padré about my adventure, even Rise-and-Whine himself will have to admit my expertise! _

Before he conjured the door to his room, he noticed that the Dark Imagination felt slightly heavier in his mind. 

The Imagination was a part of Roman, his subconscious and the thoughts of other Sides working together to create an amazing world that he could manipulate. When he was there, he grew more aware of it, like a minimap in his head. That extended to the Dark Imagination - when Remus was there, it weighed more, and Roman assumed that it worked the other way around, too. 

It was odd, now that he was thinking about it. He hadn’t felt the familiar weight of his (he shuddered)  _ sibling  _ in months. It made no sense. Remus spent all of their time in their portion of the Imagination, making creepy monsters and bloody horror scenes, creating torture weapons and zombie apocalypses. But as soon as Janus was accepted… 

He didn’t know what it was supposed to mean. It felt important, but no matter how he looked at it, it just didn’t make sense. There was no logical reasoning, no obvious answer -  _ why do I care anyways?  _

_ What if they’re plotting something? _

_ They don’t plot anything beyond creepy pranks and surprise attacks, maybe a kidnapping or two. _

~~_ Why do you keep treating them like they do, then?  _ ~~

He felt… heavy. 

_ Maybe I should check up on them.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And everything is falling into place~ 
> 
> What do you think, mine venner?
> 
> Should Remus snap? (ensuring another ten chapters or so while everyone tries to get them back to normal)
> 
> Or do they get saved just in time?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, things happen, and Remus isn’t exactly Remus anymore...

Roman found a theatre in the middle of a cold, barren forest. It was a shockingly beautiful building; the walls stretched high above his head, ornate pillars dividing the blank arches and the stained glass windows, the roof peaking in dozens of places with corners rimmed with silver, the large wooden doors heavy and imposing. The symmetry was impeccable, but the elements of asymetrical balance added a sophistication, a realism that he envied.

The sky itself was a foggy gray, whether with smoke or clouds he couldn’t say, and Roman found himself raising a fist to knock on one of the heavy wooden doors. Before he could, though, it swung open, revealing an empty corridor. 

Warily, he gripped his sword tightly in his hands, because this was a theatre that _ Remus  _ had made.

When he rounded the corner and entered the actual theatre, the last thing he expected to see was Remus, their gaze snapped up to hold his own, standing on the stage with their Morningstar over one shoulder and a stack of bloody pages in their free hand.

They were frozen, looking at each other, neither messing a move, until finally Remus’ face slowly split into an unsettlingly wide grin. 

“Ro-Ro! You’re just in time!” Remus shouted, and suddenly a shadow next to him pulled away from itself and melded into the rough form of a person, handing him a stack of blood-stained paper.

For some reason, he didn’t drop them.

For some reason, he walked up to the stage and climbed the stairs.

For some reason, he found himself pulled into the scene, his body and mouth moving separately from his mind, which was watching things as though they were a dozen paces away, sitting in the front row audience.

“Halt, fiend!” his mouth was saying viciously.

“Continue, brother,” Remus bowed mockingly, feigning cordiality. “Is it so wrong, dear brother, to be thy villain and yet require sustenance?”

“Aye! The moment thou, foul creature, sets foot or thought in territory not thine own; this is the moment thou becometh a gnat, the moment that has urged me to take up arms against mine own flesh.”

“Perhaps this moment is too hastily carved, dear blood.” Remus’ eyes were bright and their grin was dazzling. Roman watched his body clench his sword and prepare to attack, and a wave of bubbling nausea made his heart jump into his throat.

“Doubtful,” he was snarling. “Thou canst not deny that thou art the frayed edges of the fabric that was the King, and I the body, untouched satin. Thou art the lesser half, and I the greater; thou art the darkness, the shadow, while I am the light. Therefore this moment, which thou sayest is too hastily carved, is merely a reflection of undisguised truth!”

Remus kept grinning, side-stepping a murderous stroke from Roman’s sword with a carelessness that scared him. “Tell me, brother, is the villain the one who screams or is the villain the one who smiles?”

Cold, glittering silence, and Roman saw himself drop his sword like it burned. 

“Tell me,  _ brother,  _ is the villain the one who cries or is the villain the one who shouts?” Remus’ voice had a sharp, biting edge to it, like a freshly sharpened blade dipped in poison. “Tell me. Is the villain the one who approaches unarmed, or is the villain the one who draws their weapon?”

Their voice grew louder and harsher, angrier and filled with poorly hidden anguish. Roman flinched, but his body stood unmoving. “Tell me,  _ brother.  _ **_Am I the villain?_ ** _ ” _

_ No… you’re not. _

“Aye.”

Roman’s voice was icy cold.

Remus seemed to break a little, the anger and sadness snapping into shards, being replaced by an excitement tainted with insanity. “Well thanks be, brother dear! ‘Tis I, the villain; and since ‘tis thou, mine enemy, I extend a challenge. A Quest, if thou wilt! Silence them. Silence the voices that hiss in my mind, cut through my skin and flesh and bone, play the valiant hero once more, mine brother, and end my suff’ring. And in return… thou wilt be crowned victorious, having defeated the evil that thou hast fought day and night, heart and soul to vanquish at long last.”

_ No! _

Roman watched helplessly as his body advanced dangerously on his twin, and was shocked when the door burst open and a shout sliced through the air. He was disoriented, so surprised by the intrusion that he’d been slammed into his own body again.

He dropped to his knees and sobbed in relief. He didn’t want to kill.

-

“Remus!” 

Janus rushed forward to steady the unstable Side, ignoring Roman for now because there were more  _ important  _ things to be doing,  _ dammit. _

Remus didn’t look okay. Their skin was cold and too pale, too gray; all the color had been leeched out of their normally sparkly, expressive outfit, leaving nothing but the shadow of a broken Duke. They were swaying on their feet, their legs visibly shaking, but they didn’t fall.

Logan approached quietly and said, “I’m sorry. I’m Logic, I should’ve… I should’ve been able to see beyond my own goals and ideals to notice how hard it was -  _ is _ \- for you. And I know that apologizing probably means nothing to you, but I want you to know that I’m willing to prove it.”

Janus nodded slightly in a silent approval of his apology, then swallowed and began his own. “I’m sorry too. I abandoned you. I left you, even though I said I wouldn’t; even though I knew you couldn’t be alone. I don’t expect you to forgive me. I wouldn’t be surprised if you never do. But, this is me admitting I made a mistake, and that I’m sorry. You… do with that what you will.”

He risked a glance towards Remus’ face, and immediately felt a rush of concern at the blatant lack of response.

Waves of cold washed over him, and Janus had to fight the sudden sluggishness that started to take root in his blood.

Remus’ eyes were empty. There wasn’t a single trace of emotion in them - no anger, no sadness, no mercy, no bitterness, no glee, no acceptance, no energy,  _ not a single hint of thought. _ It was colder than the air around them; it was dark, unforgiving, yet blank in a way that made it clear that even that much emotion wasn’t present.

Now that their eyes were locked, Janus saw how much darker his former friend’s irises were. Not shining hazel, not glittering emerald, not even  _ gray -  _ they were dark. A color not quite black, they were too deep and  _ real _ to be, but much, much darker even than a starless night sky on a new moon. Janus noticed that the silver streak in Remus’ hair was faded, spread out more, so that their hair was grey with the slightest hint of brown, the tips dipped in icy white. 

Slowly, unnaturally, sending out alarms that screamed in protest that it was  _ wrong wrong wrong  _ \- Remus' lips drew upwards, stretching into an empty, too-wide grin that only made the deepness of their eyes cloud over. 

And while Janus watched, frozen,  _ terrified,  _ Remus seemed to glitch four inches to the left, then too far to the right, jerking into place even more cold than before. 

“Well it was nice while it lasted!” Remus chirped, their voice too bright and too cheerful, while their eyes stayed clouded and dark. Even the general sound of it was wrong - it wasn’t  _ their voice,  _ it wasn’t  _ Imp’s  _ voice, it was just  _ wrong.  _ Their head tilted a little too far, their smile too wide. “It’s okay, Dee-Dee! I don’t care!” 

_ You should!  _ Janus wanted to scream, but his jaw was glued shut with fatigue and cold.

Remus glitched again, and suddenly they were wearing an outfit identical to Imp’s, but with a glittering black cloak clipped to the shoulders in place of the green ribbons, and now their eyes were somehow even darker. Their mustache was gone.

Janus’ eyes flicked desperately to Logan and Roman, but they were just as frozen and he, incapable of speaking.

“Don’t worry! I won’t put up a fight! You could put me in a cell so cold I’d freeze to death! But you could just leave me alone and that’d happen anyways, huh? You could chain me up so I couldn’t move! Leave me alone, drive me insane! I don’t care! I won’t stop you!”

Remus bounced on their heels, clapping in a painful imitation of enthusiasm. They looked around brightly, though the way their eyes slid past everything betrayed how little they actually saw through their clouded eyes. 

_ We really fucked up, didn’t we?  _ Janus thought bitterly, right before the cold crept into his mind and he phased into gray unconsciousness. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm... any ideas for the next chapter? I have to admit, I don’t exactly know how to transition from here yet.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, ya wanted ‘em to snap, so here it is!

Janus passed out, and Logan shot forward to catch him, abandoning his position next to the collapsed and shaking Roman. It was cold - that wasn’t  _ good -  _ the cold was coming from  _ Remus -  _ Remus looked different - Roman was in shock - Janus was going into a cold-indused coma - and he didn’t know what to  _ do -  _

_ Take a deep breath.  _ He did so.  _ Okay. You need to get everyone out of here.  _

“Remus,” his voice was startlingly calm, even to himself. He recovered quickly. “Go to the commons.”

For a moment, Logan thought they would protest, but Remus just shrugged indifferently and said with the same false-brightness as before, “Okay!”

Blinking once, he forced himself to look away from the now empty spot where they’d been standing and straightened, heaving Janus up over his shoulder. Crude, yes, but efficient, since he had to bring Roman with him as well.

Nothing felt real. It was all just so  _ wrong -  _ the only - the only logical explanation was that he was dreaming, or something similar. Maybe he’d come down with something. He  _ had  _ been feeling a little ignored recently…  _ dizziness, fatigue.  _ Or maybe he’d made a mistake on something important, and he was dealing with the embarrassment and frustration?  _ Fever, dry skin.  _ He’d never hallucinated before. Or dreamed, for that matter - but surely -  _ surely -  _ there was a reason why he suddenly was?

_ Indubitably,  _ he reprimanded himself, hating the hesitance in his internal voice. 

He rose up with a stagger, unused to the extra weight and drag of pulling the two other Sides up with him. Without wasting time, he let go of Roman and set Janus down on the couch, laying a blanket over him before returning to the former and crouching down to tap out a breathing exercise for the creative side to follow.

Breathe in.

_ 1, 2, 3, 4…  _

Hold.

_ 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7…  _

Breathe out. 

_ 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8…  _

Roman stopped shaking so badly, but his eyes were still unfocused, and he was still curled up on the floor.

Breathe in.

_ 1, 2, 3, 4…  _

Hold.

_ 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7…  _

Breathe out. 

_ 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8…  _

Logan himself felt calmer, steadier; and Roman was now fast asleep, his chest rising and falling in even intervals. He carefully lifted him up, sinking out once more to the creative side’s bedroom.

He ignored the fairy lights, the gold-framed mirrors, the Disney posters, and the rich red curtains over the bed - no matter how much it made his head pound. He laid Roman down gently, supporting his head as he did so, and pulled the covers over his friend.

Taking a moment to savor the sweet calmness of the room, Logan sighed softly and sunk down yet again, back to the commons’ living room to bring Janus to his room, too.

-

Im- Re- I- they - they? he? they - R-Rem-Remus. Remus? I-I-Imp? them… both? two? one? none? neither? forever? now? 

Their eyes unfocused, blurring everything around them, and they found themself sinking into a buzzing, humming, foggy pit. Their mind was filled with it, filled with thoughts that raced by each other and pressed into their mind until they grew bored. 

It was warm now. Again? Why were they warm? They shouldn’t have been warm. They’d come here for a reason… right? They just couldn’t remember.

Oh well.  _ ‘S no big deal!  _

Shrugging it off, they bounced and bounced, practically vibrating with sheer energy, for no other reason than that they felt like it. 

They wanted to go somewhere. But they weren’t supposed to - right? was that a thing? why? did it matter? They didn’t know. Should they have cared? Wait, was there someone else here before, or were they remembering wrong? 

A shriek startled them so badly that their vision focused for a split second, shoving a glimpse of a very surprised, angry Virg- Vee-Vee? - Anx? Vee. 

“REMUS!” Vee shouted, and they were shoved backwards into the… wall? Was it a wall? What were walls? Why were there walls in Tho-Thom- Tommy’s head?  _ “Get —— — here! ——— —- alone, you ———ole!” _

It felt like their head was stuffed with cotton. They didn’t like the yelling… did they? maybe? They didn’t know. They couldn’t focus - wait what were they doing? Where were they? Why were they there? Was someone else here before? Did it matter? Did they think this before? Wait, who was - was someone yelling? No, they didn’t think so. Did they? Where were they? 

They went to go somewhere, and they realized that they were being pinned against the wall by something - a blob of black and purple? A bruise? Why were they being pinned to the wall by a bruise? How? Did they make the bruise angry somehow? 

They giggled. Or, they thought they did? Maybe they did. Did what? Where were they? It didn’t matter. Did it matter? Probably not? They felt funny - jittery and itchy and cold and sick. Funny. They giggled again. Was it again? They did it before? Did what before? What were the doing again? 

Oh, there was more shouting. The bruise was shouting, and so was someone else, a fuzzy blur of dark grey, maybe it was a ghost. Ghostie! A ghostie was shouting too! The bruise let go of them - did they? Where were they? Wait, were they doing something? 

They twitched - glitched?  _ Heh, bitched, stitched, pitched, snitched, witched.  _ What were they doing? They got up - their legs felt all funny, shaky and woozy like jelly - and stumbled forward, swaying and smacking their shin on a corner, and their shoulder into a wall. Wall? Were there walls? Why? Walls in Tommy’s head?

...were they supposed to be doing something? 

They blinked and snickered, for no reason. It felt good. Funny. All tingly and shaky. They hit something soft and they immediately wrapped all their limbs around it to keep it as close as physically possible. Wait, why did things like physics exist in Tommy’s head? Why couldn’t they get closer to the warm soft thingie? Stupid Tommy.

_ Stupid, stupid, stupid ~  _ their thoughts sang, and they bit their lip as they grinned.  _ Stupid, dumb, fucking Tommy!  _ It was so funny! 

“—— — -kay? Can y— —— -?”

They were so  _ sleeeeepyyyy ~  _ they snuggled closer and slid precariously into sleep.  _ Mm… so warm…  _

It was just so  _ funny!  _

-

Virgil looked at the obviously loopy Side in shock and horror.

Logan was holding Remus - or, well, Remus was wrapped around Logan - protectively while he reprimanded Virgil with a heat that made him shrink back.

“- as much of a Side as you and I! You - ”

_ Imp - Remus - they - how? They don’t look good, they look like shit - like they’ve been puking in a fucking freezer after drinking twenty shots of vodka or some shit -  _

“ - responsibility to make sure that everyone is safe, and that extends to mental health as well. You of all people should know how badly isolation can affect someone! And if you  _ ever - ” _

_ This is bad… I… I shouldn’t’ve…  _

“ - be sure that you and I won’t be friends any longer!”

_ That  _ snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Wh-What?” he scrambled to try and pick up the pieces. “No - no! I’m sorry, I didn’t - I - I just - I didn’t think, I’m sorry,  _ god  _ I’m such a bad person - what kind of asshole am I - I can’t - they’re not -  _ ugh!”  _

“It’s not me you need to apologize to,” Logan said coldly, and sunk out without waiting for Virgil to form a response.

He bit his lip, panic tugging at him, poking at his seams and making him struggle to breathe. 

_ I just - ! I can’t just  _ punch  _ someone! Fuck, now everyone’s gonna hate me, and they  _ should -  _ I’m such a fucking jerk! Who just rounds on a sick person like that!?  _

Part of him wanted to. Part of him wanted to go back and punch them again. 

And that  _ terrified  _ him.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three out of six sides unconscious - where has Patton been this whole time? Any suggestions for Virgil’s behavior? Should Remus stay as loopy as a may-day ribbon, or should they wake up depressive and upset? Any input is appreciated, as always, mine venner!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not too much plot, but here’s a look into Patton’s mind~ (also Remus wakes up again)

Patton clutched his puppy plushie close to his chest, while the rest of him was curled up on the corner of his bed. He’d thought he would’ve run out of tears by now… but here he was… still crying. He chuckled wetly. 

He just… he just wanted… 

Was it really a bad thing that he wished Remus were Imp instead? 

_~~Yes.~~ _

Imp was just cuter, and more innocent, and less obtrusive than Remus. And if Remus  _ was  _ Imp, then it meant that they were capable of being that way. So… there was nothing wrong with encouraging that, right? 

~~_ Wrong. _ ~~

They were already doing it. If he just kept ignoring Remus and being nice to Imp, then they’d be Imp more often, which would be better for everyone! 

~~_ No. _ ~~

His chest was burning and he heaved a sob. 

He just wanted -

~~_ No!  _ ~~

He wanted to be a  _ good person!  _ He wanted  _ Thomas  _ to be a good person! And he knew - he  _ knew  _ \- that a Good Person didn’t ask for people to change, certainly not by being  _ mean  _ to them if they did something they didn’t like. A Good Person was nice to  _ everyone.  _ A Good Person was supportive and accepting. 

_ But can Thomas be a Good Person with Remus in his head?  _

~~_ … _ ~~ ~~_ Don’t.  _ ~~

Patton bit back another sob and focused on trying to stop crying so harshly. 

_ I’m a Good Person… right? _

_~~You’re not.~~ _

_ I am. _

~~_ No. _ ~~

A small knock on his door, soft and tentative, had him roughly wiping the tears off his face and tugging on one of his signature Patton-smiles.  _ Happy-Pappy Patton - yep, that’s me! _

~~_ It’s not. _ ~~

When he opened his door, he gave the four year old waiting outside a big hug. “Kiddo, how are you feeling? Cuddles or cookies?”

He shifted shyly and mumbled, “...cuddles.”

Patton’s smile softened and he led Lo into his room, glad that at least he had one person he could hug through the night.  _ No, no, I’m just glad to help! Lo needs this. _

_~~You need this.~~ _

_ Shut up. Please? _

~~_ No. _ ~~

He didn’t want to argue anymore.

-

They woke up - again? - from the grayness of sleep (was it supposed to be gray?), only to stare at the white  _ too clean, too perfect _ ceiling blankly.

They couldn’t think right. Their thoughts kept slurring together like brain putty left out in the sun, and they couldn’t focus on anything without their vision going fuzzy and sliding to something else. 

It was so,  _ so  _ much worse than being drunk, and yet so much  _ better.  _ For one, they didn’t have a hangover, even if they  _ did  _ feel like vomiting and setting themself on fire - though it was a sore consolation when they finally remembered (cursedly vaguely) that it was over.

No more cuddles.

No more Quests.

No more movie nights.

No more food.

No more smiles.

No more warmth.

No more freedom.

None, and yet… they were warm. They were cuddling someone - wait, Ro?  _ What?  _ Was that really Ro? No, right? Wait, what were they thinking about again? They couldn’t remember. Remember what? Huh… nope, no idea. Oh well.

Their thoughts drifted for a bit, and then they remembered again.  _ Warm.  _ They were warm. It was cruel. They  _ knew  _ already. Was it  _ really  _ necessary to remind them of what they’d be missing when they finally locked them up again? They’d thought it would be beneath them, but you never really know, do you. 

They considered getting up. 

_ ‘S warm though. _

Yep, they were going to stay. Stay where? Were they going somewhere?  _ No, nope, remember? No… what? Ugh.  _

They squirmed so that they were closer to the warm body next to them - hey, they knew they were gonna freeze to death an hour after being incarcerated, so they might as well take advantage of the warmth while they could!

Unfortunately, only a few minutes - hours? it might’ve been hours - later, the person next to them stirred, and then sat up quickly with a yelp.

They immediately let go of them, curling in on themself to make themself smaller. The action made their head spin.

The person - it wasn’t Ro, it couldn’t be Ro - couldn’t be who? Was it Ro? Why? How? Wait, who was who again? Did it matter? - they stood up and started shouting, but then they stopped abruptly and started talking much more quietly.

Too bad they couldn’t understand any of it. They  _ heard  _ it, but the words just… didn’t make any sense. 

_ They’re probably telling me to do something, or something… something? Huh? Some - some what?  _

They hated feeling so loopy. Did they? Maybe? No, they liked not understanding, it was easier that way. What was easier again?

“V——- ———— f— —— - I’m ——— down, —— d—— worry —- ———- to —— you —— ——- alone… and - — ——- cold, why ——”

They sighed.  _ Very helpful indeed, stupid fucking ears… stupid fucking brain… stupid fucking eyes…  _

Eventually, whoever it was must’ve noticed that they weren’t exactly listening, because the voice trailed off and let silence settle over them both.

Honestly… they didn’t know if it was better.  
  


~~ It wasn’t. ~~

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we finally see that Logan’s little too~ 
> 
> Yes or no, does Roman become a Good Brother?
> 
> Yes or no, do you want to have a flashback next chapter? If so, is there and particular piece of *history* you want to see?
> 
> Du har en finger i spillet, vennene mine!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out just what, exactly, happened after the Split - and it’s not pretty.

After a long silence, during which they sat uncharacteristically still ( ~~ like a stone statue of a nude angel boy! ~~ ) and just kind of… zoned out while they waited, the other person (was it a person?) broke it. 

“Remus…” their voice -  _ Ro’s voice,  _ **_Ro’s voice_ ** \- was surprisingly clear. Maybe their loopiness was wearing off? “I - I’m - are you… here?” 

_ Here? Am I here? Where is here? Ro’s room! ‘M in Ro’s room! Oh! Oh! C’n we go to the Imagination!?  _ Their brief excitement deflated when they remembered.  _ Can’t…  _

They blinked. Had someone - someone - had someone asked them something? Oh, that was  _ Ro!  _

_ What did he ask? Uhhh… I don’ know…  _

They just hummed noncommittally, hoping it was enough of a reply and Ro -  _ wait, Ro’s here? -  _ wouldn’t start yelling at them. 

Ro slowly sat down on the bed again, and although their vision was blurry and unreliable, they knew they weren’t making up the upset expression on his face.  _ But what does it  _ mean? 

“I… I’m sorry, Re. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

_ Fuck. ‘M still loopy, huh? Makin’ up hallucination things t’ make myself feel better.  _ They closed their eyes and buried their head in their knees. It would be better… to not see it. 

They didn’t need any more reminders of what they’d be losing. 

“...I’m not a hallucination…” the voice was soft, but raw, upset.  _ Did I say an’thin’ aloud…? ‘r is it jus’ listenin’ to m’ thoughts ‘cause it’s a ‘lucination? I don’ wannit ta stay…  _

It was painful. Like the - like the - the - 

The world spun, tilting up - up - up - and they felt themself fall, felt the nausea burst into fire, felt everything crumble away and let them fall down - down - down - 

_ It  _ **_hurts_ ** _. It  _ **_hurts_ ** _ it  _ **_hurts_ ** _ it  _ **_hurts!_ **

_ It’s a burning pain, like being stabbed with a thousand barbed needles at once, like being thrown far far far under the water, like they’ve just climbed out of a vat of bubbling lava, like  _ **_everything they ever were was ripped away from them_ ** _ and left them  _ **_bruised_ ** _ and  _ **_torn_ ** _ and  _ **_screaming_ ** _ in pain -  _

_ And it doesn’t go away.  _

_ It doesn’t go away, long after the Dragon-Witch digs her claws into their skin, drawing blood as she drags them away.  _

_ It doesn’t go away even after they black out from days of screaming and screaming and crying and sobbing and longing,  _ **_needing,_ ** _ their other half to  _ **_come back._ **

_ It doesn’t go away when the thoughts start screaming back at them, cutting through their mind with vivid images of blood and pain and twisted horror, when they’re sucked into so many nightmares that they don’t even know when they’re real or not. _

_ It doesn’t go away even when the Dragon-Witch finally gives up on them, loathing their screams and their tears and their endless pain, not even when she rips into their skin as she roughly carries them over the Imagination and slams them down on dark, wet ground, leaving them without a second glance. _

_ It doesn’t go away, and they can’t scream anymore, can’t cry, but they can shake and tremble and curl up into a ball. _

_ It doesn’t go away when they can’t fight anymore, when the pictures in their head start to claw out into the Imagination, when the sky is darkened, thorns tear out of the ground, the trees die and the air is frozen.  _

_ It doesn’t go away when their other half comes back and screams at them to stop it, to get rid of the darkness, to  _ **_fix it._ ** __

_ It doesn’t go away, and they can hardly move anymore, and a Side with scales and a glowing golden eye picks them up and takes them away. _

_ It doesn’t go away, but they don’t care anymore, they don’t feel it anymore, it’s all just numb and they don’t  _ **_care._ ** __

_ It finally fades away, only after they’ve been sitting on the ground of a blinding white nothingness for so long that they can hardly remember their name. Only after hundreds, thousands, of days that they can only tell apart by the meals that the snake brings them. Only after they’ve wandered for hours, only to find the same empty white. _

_ When it does, they don’t care anymore. They realize the truth - that they’ve never been wanted, never been needed, and they never will be. That’s okay. Because they don’t care anymore. The snake is only keeping them in the white because no one wants them. It’s not the snake’s fault. And why bother holding it all in when that just hurts? When it does nothing?  _

_ They’re different now. They grin. They joke. They talk to the snake when he comes. They let out their creations and their thoughts and it’s better now - and they even have a friend! _

_ But sometimes… even after the snake brings them out of the white nothingness and into his home, even after they get their own room and visit their small little sliver of the Imagination, even after they have Dee-Dee and Anx… it’s nice to let go, to go back to a time when everything was good, when they have a big family and no one hates them.  _

_ If they ever need to… they think that they’ll go to the Light Side. Not as them, but as their younger, happy self. After all… it can’t be worse than what they’ve already been through.  _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s funny, isn’t it, that this whole story was supposed to be fluffy? Indeed. I suppose I am much more angst-driven than I assumed... ah well, I honestly like it better with so much angst, though it is hard to tell when it’s “too much.” 
> 
> I am open to constructive criticism, so if you all think it’s too much, I’d be glad to go back while I still can and fix it up! 
> 
> With that said, Roman’s going to call someone up to help - and he doesn’t know who knows, if anyone knows, so it can be anyone~ ;)
> 
> Any suggestions, mine venner?


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman gets Logan up to help, and Janus plots evil schemes. :)

_ Fuck!  _ Remus was out cold -  _ literally -  _ and trembling so much it almost looked like a seizure, and - and - and what was he supposed to  _ do!?  _ He was just  _ standing there,  _ couldn’t even move, couldn’t stop them from crumpling to the ground, couldn’t keep whatever nightmares plagued them away, couldn’t do  _ anything  _ except just  _ fucking stand there,  _ and he  _ hated it.  _

It was… like a switch. He didn’t have much time to think about it, but he was aware of it. One moment, the thought of Remus sent shudders down his spine and tugged a grimace over his smile, and the next - he would do  _ anything  _ for his twin.  _ Anything.  _ It was a protectiveness, a determination, a  _ need  _ that he’d never felt before. 

He - he - why did it feel so  _ right,  _ and yet so  _ wrong  _ at the same time?

Roman blinked hard and willed himself to focus. 

_ Help. I need help.  _ **_Remus_ ** _ needs help.  _

_ Who can help? _

_ Logan. Logan will know how to help. He helped before, too.  _

_ Okay.  _ He shakily jerked his clenched hand up, tugging upwards, the only word in his mind being  _ Logan.  _

He didn’t focus on the unnamed words in the back of his head, the feelings of shame and anger, of the overwhelming need to keep Remus safe.

Logan rose up quickly, looking exhausted - yet still businesslike and completely aware of what was going on, after only a moment of examination.

The logical Side lifted Remus back onto Roman’s bed, applying a gentle pressure to their chest with his arm and murmuring quiet words that Roman couldn’t make out.

He felt himself relax, the tension in his shoulders gone when Remus stopped shaking and their breathing evened out.

“Will they be okay?” he found himself asking, and both of them were surprised by the softness of his tone and the sheer amount of hope and worry heaped into that one question. He didn’t take it back.

Logan recovered, straightening his crooked necktie before a flash of guilt flew across his face and he replied quietly, “Eventually, perhaps. But I’m afraid that this… isn’t something that can be so easily recovered from.”

_ That’s what I was afraid of.  _

Roman’s eyes filled with tears as he looked back to the sleeping Side. 

“Can… can I…” he worried his lip. “I need a hug!” he blurted out. 

Logan nodded, and then the only thing on his mind was his arms, the warmth around his chest, and the tears streaming down his face.  _ I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…  _

-

Janus was scheming. Plotting. Devising a villainous plan to take over the world - 

Okay, maybe not. 

But his ten-step, not-necessarily-chronological plan to Saving soon-to-be-Happy Intrusive Thoughts (S.H.I.T. for short) was way more important than any old world dominion.

Step 1 - fix Remus’ room; clean it up and make it  _ warm _ for shit’s sake.

Step 2 - take care of Remus’ physical health.

Step 3 - make them a pet octopus or something for emotional support.

Step 4 - DON’T FUCKING FORGET ABOUT THEM, ASSHOLE! Visit them EVERY DAY.

Step 5 - confront Virgil and Patton about how they treat Remus. (Maybe Roman too, but he probably already knows.)

Step 6 - invite Remus over to spend time with actual people.

Step 7 - celebrate their birthday (don’t mention the fact that they technically came into existence on the same day as Roman.) 

Step 8 - get Picani over.

Step 9 - fight anyone who still doesn’t accept Remus at this point.

Step 10 - sincerely apologize for how FUCKING STUPID you were and then hopefully get your best friend back.

Yep. 

He totally didn’t make it just because he had no fucking clue what to do with all the guilt crushing him with its weight. 

Totally. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the short chapter, mine venner - rest assured that it is only because I am horribly busy bringing up my grades from their ghastly positions four letters apart from A, and not because I am losing interest in this story, because I could never give up on such a dark and beautiful thing. <3
> 
> Also, isn’t it odd that Remus uses they/them pronouns? Why could that be? Why are they the only one? 
> 
> We may never know...


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, okay, Remus is basically doing everything on their bucket list before they (presumably) get locked away. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I highly suggest you listen to all three songs by King George in Hamilton before reading this - “You’ll Be Back” in particular. ;)

Remus wasn’t moving. Well, hardly. When they woke up, they just laid there, staring into nothingness. They were still grayscale - and they were still wearing the mismatched outfit from the theatre. 

After two days, Logan told Patton - who apparently already knew - and the moral Side made soup and spoon-fed the dissociating Remus, but other than the occasional swallow, they showed no signs of knowing that anyone was there.

Janus went up to Remus’ room with Roman, and together they cleaned it up as best as they could. The cold faded after a while (now Roman’s room was the one chillingly cold), but no matter how much they tried, they couldn’t get any color back into the room.

Logan tried grounding Remus with dozens of different methods - weighted blankets, music, ice cubes (no surprise that  _ that  _ one didn’t work), tapping, adjusting their position, scented candles… nothing worked, although sometimes it would make a loose tear fall down their cheek.

Virgil avoided everyone, but the rare moments when he  _ was _ sighted showed just how anxious he was. His eyeshadow was darker and heavier than it had ever been, his hair was unkempt, and he tapped his fingers nervously on every surface he passed.

Patton was increasingly attached to wearing his cat hoodie  _ properly,  _ a sure sign that he was distressed.

And although there were a few moments early in the morning or during movie nights when things almost felt  _ normal -  _ they never lasted for longer than a few hours. 

It was a full nine days later that Roman walked into his room to check on Remus and found them heaving silent sobs, tears forming a dark puddle on the sheets and fingers clutching the blankets so tightly that their knuckles were white. 

He immediately felt his own eyes blur, and he rushed to Remus’ side to give them a tight, protective hug. 

“It’ll be okay, Re,” he choked out. “I promise.”

Remus jerked away from him, curling tightly into themself before they glitched off the bed, standing with their feet firmly planted on the floor and their fists clenched. Their shoulders were shaking, and dark streaks of eyeshadow were still streaming down their face, even as the look in their eyes was murderous. 

**“NO!”** they shouted, their tone seething with a fury that made Roman stumble back in shock and fear. 

Then, as quickly as they changed from sad to angry, they went from absolutely livid to a calm equanimity in a matter of seconds. Their shoulders were relaxed, their hands loose at their sides, the dark look in their eyes replaced by one of composure and… acceptance. Their mouth was loose, not smiling but not frowning either. Neutral.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Prince,” they stated simply, but there was a dark undertone to their words, just like the teasing hint of mockery dancing above them.

Before Roman could reply, Remus turned sharply to face a full-length mirror propped up on the wall by the bed. He watched as they straightened their outfit, remaking the cloak that Janus had removed a few days ago, and not touching the makeup that had been ruined, only applying some dark gray over their eyelids and running a hand through their messy hair.

Then they spun back towards Roman, flinging out their arms with a happy grin that made their dark eyes flash bright green. “I’m ready, Prince! Let’s go!” 

Roman closed his gaping mouth with a click and smiled hesitantly, following the exuberant Side as they flung open the door and strode out of his room with a bounce in their step.

When Remus entered the living room, they furrowed their eyebrows - while still smiling - and blinked a few times. As Roman watched, the room simultaneously darkened and lightened, colors gaining depth and subtle shading, furniture getting texture, and the scent of books and cookies returned to the air.  _ That’s funny… I didn’t even notice how much it changed.  _

After that, their face brightened again and they practically skipped into the kitchen, and from the startled yelp that came from there Roman knew that Remus must’ve startled Patton.

He hurried to see what was going on - and was incredibly surprised to see a dozen bowls, ingredients, and measuring cups spinning around Remus, while Patton stood with his back pressed to the counter and a wide-eyed look on his face.

It only took a few minutes for Remus to mix up batter and icing, stick a pan in the oven and then set it on fire, and then  _ somehow  _ they reached into the flames and pulled out perfectly baked cupcakes that they iced with the help of whatever magic was levitating things.

Moments later, there were fresh cupcakes on a plate on a counter in a clean kitchen, and Remus was off again, practically bouncing back into the living room and flicking their hand to fill the air with oddly familiar music -

_ Oh shit, this is -  _

“You say~” Remus sang out, voice theatrically deeper than usual, and now they were wearing a shiny black crown and their cloak was lined with fluffy black fur. 

_ “Ooh! I wanna sing that song sometime!”  _

_ Remus pops up behind the TV, bending over to see the screen upside down. They’re grinning maniacally, but no one but Roman can see it from their positioning. _

_ Roman huffs and throws some yummy buttered popcorn at them. “Get out of the way, we’re trying to watch it!”  _

_ But he’s not really mad, just slightly annoyed, and there’s this weird feeling in his chest -  _

“~the price of my love’s not a price that you’re willing to pay…” Remus frowned at them, and suddenly Roman was hit with the realization that this line was directed at  _ him.  _ He bit his lip as Remus twirled around and conjured up shadow people to dance with them.

“You cry-y-y-y~” they dragged a finger down their stained cheek with a fake pout, then grinned wildly. “In your tea, which you hurl in the sea when you see me go by.”

Virgil rose up next to them. “What the fuck,” he deadpanned.

“Remus is singing ‘You’ll be Back’ from Hamilton,” Roman answered, eyes not straying from his twin. Patton nodded in agreement, looking just as dazed.

“Yeah no duh!” Virgil exclaimed.

“Now you’re making me ma-a-a-ad~!” Remus sang, shooting a glare at Virgil. 

“Yeah, shut up,” Roman whispered, biting back his smile. While he had  _ no clue  _ what was going on, it was _ funny. _

Virgil shoved him in the shoulder, somewhat playfully.

“Play nice!” Patton whisper-shouted.

Remus had just started the  _ best part  _ \- 

“You’ll be  _ back,  _ soon you’ll see - you’ll remember you belong to me! You’ll be _ back,  _ time will tell, you’ll remember that I served you well~”

They were standing on the coffee table and held their mace like a staff, twirling it in the air as they sang, and then Janus came tumbling down the stairs.

He looked at Remus, then at them. 

“What the fuck?” 

Virgil snickered. 

“~and when  _ push,”  _ Remus pushed down one of their shadow people, “comes to shove; I will send a fully-armed  _ battalion _ to remind you of my love!”

At  _ battalion,  _ all of their shadow people marched in time with the music to surround their audience.

“Da da da dat daaa~” Logan rose up, looking around in confusion. “~dat da da da da ya da~”

_ “What the fuck,”  _ he muttered. Roman giggled.

“~da da dat dat da ya da~!”

Logan looked at him incredulously. “Why is Remus performing ‘I’ll be Back’ from the Hamilton Musical? Actually, when did they wake up, for that matter?”

“~da da dat dat da!” Remus frowned in Logan’s direction. 

“You say our love is draining and you can't go  _ o-o-o-o-on~ _ you'll be the one complaining when I am go-o-o-one!” 

“Remus - !” Logan started, and Roman was already laughing at the timing even before Remus shouted,  _ “AND NO, DON’T CHANGE THE SUBJECT!” _

Janus and Virgil were snickering too, while Logan just looked frazzled. 

“‘Cause you’re my favorite subject~” Remus’ voice lightened and they winked before spinning around and conjuring up some more shadows.

“~my sweet,  _ submissive  _ subject~” the shadows knelt before them and they hopped onto one’s back. “My loyal, royal subject~” this time they shot a glance towards Roman himself, and he snorted before dissolving into another fit of laughter.

“Forever~ and ever~ and  _ ever,  _ and ever, and ever…” 

The shadows disintegrated, and the lighting in the room dimmed. Roman found himself waiting for the next part with a smile on his face.

“You’ll be  _ back,  _ like before,” Remus spun to face them with a determined look on their face, their left hand idly twirling their Morningstar. “I will fight the fight and  _ win  _ the war~! 

“For your love, for your praise~ and I’ll love ya ‘til my dying da-ays!” they were grinning again, blowing a kiss towards their audience. “When you’re gone, I’ll go mad, so don’t throw away this thing we had…” this part was softer, darker, so that Roman knew that this was a line that meant something.

Remus brightened. “‘Cause when  _ push,  _ comes to shove - I will kill your friends and family~”

Patton gasped quietly, but Roman caught his smile.

“~to remind you of. my. love!” 

As they started the chorus again, Roman couldn’t help but smile at how  _ well  _ Remus was performing the song, and how they were basically all just sucked into an impromptu musical without warning. 

Then - “EveRyBodY!” 

Roman found himself singing along, and so was Janus, and even Virgil and Patton were singing, and  _ Logan himself  _ was! 

“Da da da dat daaaaa~ dat da da da da ya da~ da da dat dat da ya da! Da da da dat da-a-a, dat da da da da ya da, da da da dat dat da ya daaaaa-uh!”

The music ended, and Remus grinned, the crown and fur dissolving into nothing as they hopped down from the coffee table and bowed. 

Roman and Patton applauded, and the others just wrinkled their noses or hid their smirks. 

Before anyone could talk to Remus, they were already performing a front walkover on their way to the giant  _ the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe  _ closet under the stairs, which held one of the entrances to the Imagination.

Sharing a look, they all followed, wondering just what, exactly, was going through Remus’ head. 

-

Remus hummed the chorus to  _ You’ll be Back  _ as they skipped through the grassy field, going right by the tall, knotted oak tree where the King used to have picnics. 

They didn’t exactly have a plan - it was mostly a vague idea of just  _ do whatever you can until someone stops you and locks you up.  _

Practically perfect in every way.

So far, it was going great! They’d already done some baking, sung that one song they always wanted to sing, and now they were going to go see the Dragon-Witch because they hadn’t seen her in a while. (Like, twenty years.)

They bounced with every step, a bright grin on their face, feeling lighter and warmer than they’d felt in a long time. It was invigorating, relieving, to know that they could do whatever they wanted to and they knew exactly what the outcome would be, and it wouldn’t change. 

No pressure. No worries.  _ Hakuna Matata~  _

_ Ooh, is that a dragon!?  _

They turned around and realized that everyone was following them, and suddenly they found themself grinning. They held up their hand and snapped, and once again, music began to play.

_ King George has three songs, after all~  _

-

Virgil didn’t know if he should feel annoyed or amused when Remus started singing again.

He decided on being annoyed.  He failed.

“They say~ the price of my war’s not a price that they’re willing to pay,” they sang, sounding almost melancholic. They were turned away from him, so he didn’t know if Remus was actually upset or if they were just acting. 

“Insane - ” they giggled, twirling around three-hundred and sixty degrees and continuing on their way. “You cheat with the French, now I’m fighting with France and with Spain.

“I’m so blue… I thought that we made an arrangement when you went away,” at this, Remus stopped and looked at Virgil and Janus with an indescribable look in their eye. Then they flashed a grin and continued, “You were mine to subdue; when even despite our estrangement, I’ve got a small query for you.” 

They were all out of the field and were now heading through a forest, Remus leading their impromptu parade with enthusiasm and obliviousness. “What comes next? You’ve been freed. Do you know how hard it is to lead?”

Remus grabbed a branch overhead and swung up, flipping upside down and grinning at them from their new angle. 

“You’re on your own -  _ awesome, wow!”  _ they made jazz hands and snickered before flipping upright and landing back on the ground. They did a handspring - and suddenly their voice went harsh and angry. “Do you have a  _ clue  _ what happens  _ now!? _

“Oceans ri-ise, empires fa-all!” Remus brought their hands up, dragging water up from the ground and soaking Virgil’s shoes and pants, and from Roman’s huff, he guessed everyone else’s too. “It’s much harder when it’s all your call,” their voice was quieter this time - it was another line that  _ meant  _ something. “All alone, across the sea…” they returned to enthusiastic anger. “When your people say they hate you, don’t come crawling back to me!

_ “Da da da dat daaaa~ dat da da da ya da~” _

They were almost out of the forest now. 

_ “Da da dat da daaaa ya daaaa-uh!” _

Remus was shimmying their shoulders as they sang, as the music followed them. 

“You’re on your own.” 

-

The music didn’t go away this time, instead it just grew soft as they exited the forest and reached the base of a tall mountain. 

Roman immediately recognized it as the cave of the Dragon-Witch. So did Patton. 

Remus skipped inside, and from the look on their face they knew exactly what they were getting themself into. 

At the entrance, the music suddenly grew louder again, and Remus hopped up on a smooth, flat boulder. It was then that Roman noticed they were wearing the crown and had the fur lining again -  _ when did that happen?  _

“They say~ George Washington’s wielding his power and stepping away.” Remus sounded curious, yet dejected. Their acting was on-point. “Is that tru-u-u-ue? I wasn’t aware that was something a person could do.” 

There was a sound of movement from inside the cave, and Roman’s heartbeat picked up.

“I’m perplexed. Are they going to keep on replacing whoever’s in charge? If so,  _ who’s next~?”  _ they whispered the last two words with an urgency that surprised him. “There’s no one else in their country who looks quite as large.”

Roman saw the glinting eyes of the Dragon-Witch and drew his sword in anticipation.

Remus turned towards the cave with a grin. “John Adams? ...I know him. That can’t be… that’s the little guy who spoke to me, all those years ago. What was it? Eighty-five?” they giggled. “That poor man, they’re gonna eat him alive!”

The Dragon-Witch slipped into the light, catching the attention of everyone present with her glittering yellow-green scales and cold ruby eyes, and Remus’ voice grew barely audible as they looked up at her.

_ “Oceans ri-se, empires fa-all! Next to Washington they all look sma-all… all alone… watch them run…! They will  _ tear _ each other into  _ pieces _ \- Jesus Christ, this will be fun!  _

_ “Da da da dat daaaa~ dat da da da da ya da~ da da da dat dat daaaa ya da, hahahaha! President John Adams… Good luck!”  _

Their giggles were the only sound in the forest for a short, chilling moment.

**“Well, well, well… the parasite is back,”** the Dragon-Witch drawled boredly. 

“Not for long!” Remus chirped, beaming, and she raised an eyebrow (or the dragon equivalent). They hopped down and waved, turning away and calling out behind them as they skipped, “Jus’ wanted to say hi!”

Everyone was quiet for a moment, watching Remus’ retreating form. 

**“What the** ** _fuck?”_** the Dragon-Witch asked incredulously.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, pretty long chapter, huh? And based on a song? What? No... I totally didn’t just see Hamilton for the first time and I definitely didn’t lock onto a character that reminded me of Remus... definitely. *ahem*
> 
> What other things are on their bucket list? When will the others realize what’s going on, I wonder?


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus finally hears the truth. <3
> 
> (Some of it, at least.)

Before they got too far away from the Dragon-Witch’s lair, she launched forward and blocked off their path, with a scrutinizing glare. 

**“Oh no, parasite, you’re not leaving until you tell me what this is about,”** she chuckled darkly, and Remus found themself grinning widely, unconcerned by the giant wall of scales blocking their way.

“Really?” they asked giddily. “I haven’t the slightest idea!”

The Dragon-Witch sighed, probably exasperated. She poked their chest with a claw, a little harder than necessary but neither cared.  **“Then just stay still like a good little parasite.”**

_ So much pain, it hurts, it HURTS IT HURTS MAKE IT STOP PLEASE!  _

**_“Be a good little parasite and STOP CRYING!”_ **

They brushed off the memory and smiled brightly up at the annoyed scaly face glaring down at them. “If you knew Time as well as I do, you wouldn’t talk about wasting it! And I barely know it! I gotta do everything, and there’s so little  _ time,  _ and if you don’t get outta my way I’m gonna have ta kill ya!”

The Dragon-Witch’s head reeled back in surprise at the blatant, cheerful threat, but her eyes narrowed and she didn’t move. Oh well, she probably didn’t want her fearsome reputation ruined. 

From behind them, someone said something like “what do you mean, ‘so little time’?” but they didn’t really care.

They shimmied in anticipation of a fight - sure, killing the Dragon-Witch wasn’t anywhere on their mind  _ before,  _ but now they were looking forward to it. There was going to be so much blood! And guts! And death! 

**“Where are you going to go, parasite?”** the Dragon-Witch asked sarcastically, but there was a hint of something in her voice that told them that she was stalling, nervous.

_ Huh.  _ They blinked.  _ She’s scared of me.  _

They didn’t know how that happened, but it was what it was, they supposed. 

“Eh, I dunno,” they shrugged, and summoned their Morningstar, swinging it up to rest on their shoulder. They grinned.

The Dragon-Witch huffed and spun around, stalking into her cave, muttering,  **“I don’t need this today.”**

_ Aww, man… she ran away.  _ They stuck out their bottom lip in an exaggerated pout and tossed their Morningstar into the dirt, starting forward again.

“Wait!”

They felt their heart jump and stutter, their stomach sink, and their gut yelling at them to  _ run.  _ They wondered how drastically their body would reject itself before they started throwing up lungs.

They’d hoped for longer to play… 

Remus twirled to face the other sides, their grin faltering. “Yeah, Ro-Bro?”

Ro looked upset, his face pulled into a grimace and his hand outstretched as though he wanted to grab their hand and pull them close. They took a step back just in case.

Virgie flinched at the action, and Dee-Dee was the one who spoke up. “Remus, can you please just… hear us out?”

They nodded, dropping to the ground criss-cross applesauce and propping up their chin with their hands, pulling up their falling smile into a fresh, too-tight grin.

Patt wasn’t looking at them.  _ That’s okay, I wouldn’t look at me either if I were him. _

Virgie was fidgeting nervously.  _ I don’t blame him… I’m not exactly anxiety-friendly, huh? _

Ro was biting his lip.  _ Probably to keep himself from yelling, ‘cause it’d be unprincely. _

Lo was looking at them in concern, and Dee-Dee in guilt.  _ Dee-Dee pro’ly feels bad ‘bout having to put me back in the white. Lo’s pro’ly worrying ‘bout the effect I’m having on Tommy. _

It was fine. They didn’t care. It didn’t matter.

“I’m so sorry!” Ro blurted out, tears springing into his eyes, startling Remus into falling backwards. They barely caught themself in time to hear him continue, “I was a terrible brother and I threatened you and I didn’t hear you out and - ” he took a deep breath. “I want to be a better brother. So… I’m sorry for threatening you, and pushing you away, and I’m sorry for making you the villain. I won’t… I won’t  _ ever  _ hurt you again, not intentionally. I’m sorry.”

They blinked, feeling their face twist into a watery, pained expression. Their stomach felt weird, too warm, and just slightly offset from where it should’ve been. They glitched, nausea bubbling up inside of them.

The others were nodding in agreement, and even Patton glanced over guiltily. 

“I shouldn’t have abandoned you.”

_ Wait. _

“I’m sorry for punching you…”

_ Wait. _

“I ignored you, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

_ No! _

“I… I… I should’ve been nicer…”

_ NO! _

They shut their eyes tightly, feeling themself glitch again, feeling overwhelmingly warm and yet…  _ plasticy, wrong, cottony.  _

This wasn’t supposed to happen! This wasn’t how this  _ worked!  _

It was just - just - it was just too  _ much.  _ The sun was too bright, the grass was scratchy and wrong, the air was too much, too warm, the sounds were piercing and buzzing and  _ loud  _ and all the unexplainable feelings were stifling, and they couldn’t  _ handle it,  _ it was just too  _ much -  _

They felt tears fill up their eyes and they held back a whimper, shaking and holding themself together with a frayed thread.

Swallowing their tears, they tried to pull themself together at least a little. 

They shook their head, ignoring the spinning wave of dizziness the motion caused. 

“I can’t… I can’t do this now…” they said brokenly. “Just lock me away, please, I don’t… I can’t… don’t  _ do this to me,  _ it  _ hurts so  _ **_much…”_ **

Dee-Dee’s voice, harsh and soft at the same time.

“No one’s going to lock you up.”

“O-oh…” They bit their lip to hold back the tears. “C-can I go? I can’t - I can’t do this right now…”

“Of course,” Dee-Dee answered sadly, and there were a few nods from the other sides. Remus nodded back, just a little, and sunk down numbly.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another smaller chapter, but nice and painful. <3
> 
> So, how cold are they after this? If they used to be a 9, how high/low are they now that they’ve heard the others’ barest apologies?


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of comfort and a lot of angsty thoughts.

_ No. _

_ It doesn’t make sense. _

_ It doesn’t  _ **_work._ **

_ It’s  _ **_wrong._ **

**_They’re_ ** ~~**_wrong._ ** ~~

Their room was clean. Organized. Warm. Fixed.

**_Wrong._ **

Their bed was made, their heavy green blanket smoothed over the black silk sheets. The four posts holding up the matching black curtains were restored, the scratch marks and burn marks and bite marks filled in with silver, to preserve the history but stabilize the posts. 

~~**_Wrong._ ** ~~

The dark gray carpet was cleaned up; no slime and blood soaked into it, no thawing bugs waiting to burrow into their skin. 

**_Wrong._ **

The ceiling was reinforced. No more sagging, no icicles from broken pipes that led to nothing, no gaping hole in the corner with shadows dripping down.

**_Wrong._ **

The walls were washed free from the blood splatters and the sickly stains, light gray like they used to be.

**_IT’S ~~WRONG!~~_ **

Their shelf was organized. The jars of various substances and body parts were lined up on the bottom shelf, then the more important organs, then there were the books -  _ alphabetized  _ \- about murder hornets and the Black Plague and the emperor of China that murdered ten thousand scholars, then the animal-human hybrid sculptures that even they themself thought of as gross.

**_It’s_ ** **_wrong, wrong, wrong -_ **

Their paintings on the walls were straightened, the rips sewn back together, the paint restored, all fixed, and back to how they should’ve been - _so why is it_ ** _so_** **_WRONG!?_**

_...because they’re not going to lock me up. _

They pulled their knees up to their chest, curled up against the foot of their bed. They couldn’t cry anymore, couldn’t do anything, they just… it didn’t make sense.

_ They’re not going to lock me up again. _

Even the second time, it still sounded wrong. 

_ Wrong wrong wrong~ _

“They’re not gonna lock me up again,” they whispered. 

_ Why? _

_ “I’m sorry.” _

_ “I shouldn’t have abandoned you.” _

_ “I’m sorry.” _

_ “I’m sorry.” _

_ “I want to be a better brother.” _

_ I don’t  _ **_understand._ ** _ I’m bad. I’m  _ ~~**_WRONG._ ** ~~ _ I’m gross and evil and mean and nasty and stinky and  _ **_bad._ ** __

**_I’m the evil twin. I’M THE EVIL TWIN._ **

~~**_IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE!_ ** ~~

They shivered, ice-cold tears slipping down and refusing to give them the satisfaction of dropping to the floor, just clinging to their face stubbornly.

_ It doesn’t make  _ **_sense…_ **

They felt so small.

So weak. So pathetic. 

They felt like everything was too much and too big and - and they didn’t know what to  _ do -  _ they just couldn’t  _ understand. _

When they glanced up through teary eyes, they saw themself looking back. 

_ That’s… f-f-funny…  _

They didn’t have a mirror there. 

Their reflection, glitchy and fuzzy around the edges, was so  _ small…  _

Shining, watery emerald eyes. Silver freckles. 

They felt themself blurring just as much as their reflection, and they held out their small arms to ask, chin trembling, for a hug.

Their vision went gray for a second, and when they could see again, their reflection was gone. 

They were alone.

They broke down and cried.

-

Roman finished wiping off his ruined foundation and splashed some water over his face. It was a bit cold, and he shivered, but cold had become pretty constant in his life ever since - well.

He shook his head and dried his face with a nice, warm hand towel. 

Then, feeling better, he snapped himself into his Beast onesie and turned to open the door separating his bathroom and his bedroom. He was fully expecting to walk to his bed, climb between the sheets,  and cuddle up with a puppy plushie \- he was  _ not  _ expecting a Little-Remus with wide green eyes to launch forward and bury their face in his chest, clutching him with a grip that was  _ not  _ letting go anytime soon.

Not that he would want them to.

He was surprised, and happy, that Remus still wanted him - then again, it was only  _ him  _ that had ever had a problem with it.

“Do you… do you want to sleep with me tonight?”

He felt Little-Remus - Imp? Did they like Remus or Imp better when they were little? - nod, not pulling away, and he smiled softly. “Okay, little one. Let me pick you up so I can move, okay?”

The little -  _ they are little, aren’t they  _ \- pulled away reluctantly and lifted up their arms for Roman to pick them up. With Remus held close against his chest, he walked across his room and started getting them both tucked into bed. 

As soon as they were settled, Remus cuddled closely, wrapping their arms around Roman’s chest as though they were worried he’d slip away if they didn’t. 

Roman smiled and ruffled the little’s hair before adjusting his own position to be perfect for sleep.

And just as he was about to close his eyes, he said softly, “I love you.”

And it was true.

He might not have  _ knowingly  _ spent time with Remus, but when he thought they were Imp, he’d had a lot of fun with them.

The adventures they’d had in the Imagination, with him as the Knight and Remus as the squire.

The shenanigans they’d gotten into when Remus decided that pranking people was a  _ must  _ that day, with bright pink shampoo and exploding cookie dough and glitter bombs.

The cuddle sessions, the movie marathons, the play-forts in the living room - he loved it all. He loved doing them with  _ Remus.  _ And he loved his sibling, too.

With happy memories swirling around his mind, he slowly drifted off into sleep.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sigh* another regrettably short chapter... 
> 
> Well, mine venner, we have two options for the next one:
> 
> Remus slips away before Roman wakes up because they’re scared, or Roman wakes up first and fluff and comfort ensues. <3


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman wakes up, and Remus has a flashback-dream-thing. <3

Roman woke up at dawn, to sunlight pouring into his room like liquid. He started to get up - only to find that he was being held down by a little Remus.

He did a double take.

Remus was  _ really  _ little.

They’d always looked seven or eight before, even if they did act a lot younger sometimes, but looking down at just how  _ small  _ they were… there was no way that they were any older than four or five, at  _ most.  _

_ Okay… well… they  _ did  _ have a really stressful day.  _ Roman shook himself out of his thoughts and laid back down, enjoying the soft arms around his middle and the - he wished he could say warmth, but they were pretty cold. Enjoying the adorableness, then. The completely relaxed, loose expression, the slight smile; all really freaking adorable, and it made him smile, and he loved it.

There was a knock on his door, and he panicked - he didn’t want to wake Remus! - and desperately looked around for something that would help. When he couldn’t find anything, and there was another set of knocks, he conjured a paper airplane and threw it, using a bit of magicking to make it go under the crack in the door.

The knocking stopped, and whoever was outside (it was probably Patton) made a shuffling sound and then opened the paper airplane.

Roman flushed a bit as he thought about what he’d conjured to be written on it - “give me an hour or two to cuddle my sib before they wake up”.

Not his best, but it was morning, and he was rushed, okay?

He heard a muffled squeal from behind his door (definitely Patton) and then he relaxed when it seemed that he’d gone.

Maybe he could sleep in, just this once.

-

_ They’re bored. _

_ Snakey hasn’t come in a long time! Or are they remembering wrong? It’s not like they have a clock or a watch or a sundial - or a sun. It’s just boring, boring white, with some blood on the ground, but that’s already fading into white. _

_ They’re hungry. They want to eat something. Anything. Roaches, slime, plastic, squid brains - they’d gladly eat those in an instant if it means they wouldn’t feel so light-headed and weird. But, that’s what they  _ **_want_ ** _ to eat. Okay, they’d eat normal toast with butter if it means they wouldn’t feel so twisty. _

_ They’re laying on their back, looking up at the white nothing, relishing the spots of gray and red that not blinking for a while gives them. They don’t even feel like conjuring a monster to brutally rip into shreds. They barely have the energy to stay awake.  _

_ This has never happened before. _

_ Snakey always comes just when they start to feel hungry, with a tray of food that’s a little too “nice”, and they talk for a bit and Remus conjures things to make the food better. That’s how it  _ **_works._ ** _ Always. Snakey’s never late enough to make them feel so empty and ravenous. _

_ They’ve tried conjuring food before, but it never works. Their mind is too fast paced, and they just end up conjuring a cross between sushi and a labrador and a rock or something. Things that even they don’t really feel up to eating. _

_ “Where is Snakey, where is Snakey,” they sing, hating the way their stomach aches. It doesn’t hurt. They know what hurting feels like, and this is  _ **_nothing,_ ** _ but it makes them tired and weak and they  _ **_hate_ ** _ that. “Where  _ **_is_ ** _ he? Where are you?  _ **_Are you hiding from me, Snakey? Are we playing a game? You said you hated games.”_ **

_ There’s only silence. They hate that. They really, really hate the quiet. Ironic, since they’ve been in the quiet for so  _ **_long_ ** _ they can barely remember what it was like before they knew what quiet was. _

_ Time passes, or at least, they assume it does. They can barely feel anything anymore. Is Snakey finally done with them? Is he gone forever? Did he die? Is he conducting an experiment to see if Sides can die? He could’ve told them, they’d help, and it’d be better than not knowing, than just guessing, wondering if he’s never coming back. _

_ A door materializes a few paces away, and they feel their thoughts calm down a little. The door is the one they’ve seen every day - ebony, with gold latticework over the bottom third, a door handle made of the same gold. _

_ It opens, and they catch a glimpse of a dimly lit bedroom before their eyes lock onto Snakey’s. _

_ Snakey doesn’t have a tray. He looks anxious and tired. His clothes are wrinkled. _

_ “Snakey, are you okay? Did someone hurt you? If someone hurt you,  _ **_I need you to let me out and I WILL MURDER THEM.”_ ** _ Their voice is a little weak at first, but with the thoughts of pain and torture and murder comes a wave of strength, that hardly rivals their usual vigor, but is better than nothing. _

_ Instead of answering the question, Snakey just steps into the white. Remus expects him to close the door, like he always does when he visits. He doesn’t. Remus’ head hurts now. _

_ “No one hurt me, Remus,” Snakey says, not even bothering to lie like usual, and he sounds like he has something really big that he wants to say but he’s dragging it out and they  _ **_hate it,_ ** _ they just want to  _ **_eat_ ** _ and  _ **_know_ ** _ and have things be normal again. _

_ “I’m letting you out.” _

_ Everything slips away, and slides sideways, and then it’s brighter and Snakey - no,  _ **_Janus_ ** _ \- is talking again. _

_ “No one’s going to lock you up.” _

_ “I’m letting you out.”  _

_ “No one’s going to lock you up.” _

_ “I want to be a better brother.” _

_ “I’m sorry.” _

_ They’re giving me a second chance. I can’t mess up. I can’t mess up. I can’t make a mistake. I have to be better.  _ **_I don’t want to be locked up again._ **

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I combined the options from last chapter - Remus didn't run away, there was a tiny bit of maybe-fluff, and then there was angst~ honestly, I just love darker things, I don't even know why. (I promise I love all the characters.)
> 
> I haven't really tried to write a recovery story before, so things are probably gonna be really dark for most of the story, but I hope I can write a good ending when I get there.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus is basically depressed and repressing way too much.

When Remus woke up, they were big again, and Roman was cuddling with them.

Needless to say, they were disconcerted, and they pulled away, sitting up and hugging their arms close to their chest. They didn’t meet Roman’s disappointed gaze.

“Are you hungry, _mi gemele?”_

_ Mi gemele. My… sibling. He’s never  _ **_wanted_ ** _ me to be his sibling before…  _ They nodded, not looking up. He’d never asked if they were hungry before, either. Maybe that was silly… but it was… strange.

“Great! I bet Patty-cake’s already made a dozen pancakes for us!”  _ Us.  _ **_Us._ ** Roman said  _ us.  _

Remus felt like crying. They didn’t. Crying was bad. 

Instead, they watched as Roman got up and started getting ready, changing into his prince outfit and going into the bathroom to touch up his face, casting their eyes away whenever Roman sent an affectionate glance in their direction.

When Roman was ready, Remus slipped off the bed and stood up, preparing to snap themself into a new outfit but glitching themself into it instead. That was… odd, but it was a tingly feeling that felt a lot better than snapping, so they decided not to worry about it. Now they were wearing a green T-shirt and soft black pants, with their normal boots - because boots were awesome. And really nice. And the best things ever. 

They followed Roman out of his room, with their eyes down. They… really didn’t feel like doing much right then.

_ What if I just shoved him against the wall, right now, and stabbed him in the gut? There would be so much blood -  _ they smiled a bit at the hint of the familiar buzz of thought, then forced the smile off their face. No smiling at bad thoughts.

When they got to the kitchen, they found that Roman was right - there were about a dozen stacks of pancakes on the kitchen table, with bowls of blueberries and strawberries next to chocolate syrup and maple syrup and whipped cream. And, looking at the oven clock, it was already ten in the morning. Lo, Dee-Dee, and Patt would’ve already eaten - and there was  _ still  _ so much left.

Remus sat down next to Roman, keeping their legs together and their shoulders hunched, not daring to look at the food again. They… they were hungry, but they didn’t feel like they could bring themself to eat.  _ Maybe if it had coffee syrup and peanut butter…  _ no. No nasty food. They had to eat normal things.

Eventually, they got themself a pancake and started nibbling on it plain, not noticing Roman’s concerned look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this is... pathetically short. I'm just dealing with a bit of writer's block, some good ol' procrastination, and some family issues (transphobia and dysphoria, y'know). Any suggestions will be greatly appreciated! 
> 
> Thanks for sticking around, mine venner! <3


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Janus has a plan! Yay! :)

Something was wrong with Remus. 

Well, that was a given, considering everything the Side had been through, but… this was different.

Janus hated to admit that it was familiar.

The way Remus was suddenly completely silent, not making a single sound, not letting a single word escape, no matter how many times Logan asked or Roman wheedled. The way they were still and made themself small. The way they couldn’t bring themself to do anything that was  _ them.  _ It all reminded Janus of a time… right after he’d stopped keeping Remus locked away.

_ “I’m letting you out,” he says, and the Side that he’s kept locked up in the White for years freezes, eyes widening in shock and delight. _

That look stayed with him forever. The pure ecstasy on their face, the look that  _ should  _ **_never_ ** have been there in the first place, the bright eyes and the wide grin and the mountains of hope that were being built up and up and up -

_ It’s been hard. Ever since Creativity split and Janus took on the responsibility of keeping Remus away from the others, things have gotten progressively worse for him. There didn’t use to be a Dark Side and a Light Side, but now there is, and Patton keeps Roman and Logan fiercely close, as though he’s worried any contact with anyone he deems “scary” will make THEM split, too. Now… it’s just him and Anxiety.  _

_ Where before there were picnics and games and puzzles and movies, now there’s just guilty looks that have been slowly growing colder and more apathetic. No more debates with Logic, no more adventures with Creativity, no more baking with Morality. It’s hard. It’s really, really hard. _

_ Anxiety hasn’t been doing so well, either. He’s guarded, with sharp thorned walls built up and keeping away any emotions and feelings. Janus is lonely, unfortunately, and Remus is the only Side who he can talk to. At first, Remus was terrifying - screams and sobs and nightmares, ripping out of the air and snarling viciously, dark thoughts of murder and torture and death streaming from the Side’s manic mind. Visiting them to give them food and water was something that he dreaded. Then, months later, they started being calmer. They only screamed every once in a while, and it wasn’t so chillingly cold anymore. The nightmares that sprang up were different, somehow - they were still unsettling, but they were less… powerful. They didn’t dig into his soul and shred his heart into pieces. Remus actually started grinning when Janus visited, and it was… nice. _

_ Now Remus is Janus’ closest friend, however backwards that is. He knows all about Stockholm Syndrome, and knows that it’s probably unfair to Remus, but… he didn’t know what else to do when he found out that Creativity’s darker half was destroying the Imagination.  _

_ But even though they’re close… Remus still scares Janus. He’s heard thousands of horrifying, gory, immoral things from the Side’s mouth, and although they’ve never hurt Janus he has no idea if they might snap one day or ignore that grace towards the others. He doesn’t know if Remus will torture Anxiety and rip out his throat and hurl his body in an acid lake - the Side has certainly mentioned things much worse, and directed them towards others. He doesn’t know if the moment they’re free they’ll go after the Light Sides and murder them all brutally and slowly, like they’ve threatened. _

_ And no matter how much they will come to regret it later, it’s that fear that’s led them to avoid the door that leads to the White for the last eleven days, so that Remus will be too weak to hurt anyone once Janus frees them. _

_ When Remus launches their pale, scraggly body off the ground and envelops Janus in a crushing hug, it’s the strangest thing - Remus has always been cool to the touch, but now they’re almost searingly hot.  _

_ Janus feels guilt wrench his arms up to hug them back, tears slipping down his normally composed face. _

_ Things… are not how they should be. Remus is in the Dark Side for real now, and the door to the White is shut and locked, but they’re not the same as they were in their prison. Their eyes are brighter than they’ve ever been, but their mouth stays firmly shut, and they’re shockingly still. Their hands stay at their sides, their pace is always normal, and though they look around at everything so quickly it might give them whiplash they don’t do anything.  _

_ If Janus asks them to, they eat, or play cards with them - if Janus asks them to, they will do anything, except talk. Remus is holding everything inside, leaving no hint of their existence on any surfaces, carrying themself as though the world is made of brittle glass and the slightest bit of pressure on the wrong place will send it all crumbling into nothingness.  _

_ Janus misses their friend.  _

_ In the end, it takes almost a full month to edge out of their caution. It takes a month of Janus putting on horror movies to show that it’s okay. A month of making Remus the strangest food combinations. A month of playing less than PG music 24/7 at full volume every morning, a month of dragging Remus into their Imagination to fight giant snakes, a month of focusing entirely on making Remus… REMUS again.  _

_ It’s worth it. _

Janus blinked away the memories, determination setting his shoulders back and straightening his spine, lifting his chin and making his left eye flash gold. 

“I will make thissss right…” he hissed, glaring at his reflection from across the room. “It’ssss time to fix thingssss with my bessst friend.”

-

Something was wrong with Janus, Logan decided.

Remus, he could understand. They’d gone through intense trauma in their life - imprisonment, abandonment, starvation, sickness, extreme cold, and contradiction of their core beliefs, most recently. They seemed to be going through a depressive episode right now, which made perfect sense, all things considered.

But Janus? 

Not once, in all the months since the deceitful Side’s acceptance, had Janus shown an interest in horror flicks, R-rated movies, inappropriate songs, or toast drowned in soda and gummy worms until now.

Logan had so many questions. First of all, was this normal? True, he’d never seen Janus behave this way before, but he’d only started living with him less than a year ago. Secondly, what triggered it? Logan’s best guess, which seemed very likely, was that it was because of the whole ordeal with Remus. But, that led to the third question -  _ why?  _ It made no sense. Perhaps seeing Remus around more often, unresponsive and depressed, made Janus miss the Side? It could’ve been a coping method. Doing all of Remus’ favorite things because he missed Remus. But… Logan couldn’t help but wonder.

Well, he wondered, until he realized the effect it was having on  _ Remus.  _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps this is a little shorter than I'd like it to be, but I had a little burst of inspiration and here we are, with another little piece of the story. <3 
> 
> What does Logan do once he realizes what Janus is doing? Does he help, or just observe? 
> 
> What are Virgil's and Patton's thoughts during all of this?
> 
> How long will it take before Remus is Remus again?
> 
> Thank you for staying with me so long, mine venner!


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus is confused and not doing great, and we get to see Virgil's thoughts on this whole thing!

Things didn’t feel right. Everything felt… like it was underwater, muffled, with weight pressing them into themself from all sides. It felt like they were half-asleep, and everything wasn’t real yet, because they were still shaking off a clingy, hyper-realistic dream. It felt right, and wrong, and amazing, and horrible all at once, like pressing on a nasty bruise and getting that sweet pain but it also feels bad, too because the muscle beneath the skin is too mushy and boring and weak. Like the adrenaline from a good fight, but, also the dread because death literally just touched them and they barely managed to back away. 

Like walking on a tightrope. Really, really super awesome and fun - but also not, because they didn’t really want to fall, they wanted to make it to the end and prove to everyone that they could do it. Or maybe live so that they could do it again. Or something. 

_ Ugh, new metaphor.  _

It was like all of the buzzing and humming and energy inside of them had been dragged out of them, through every tiny little hole in their skin. Like all of the things that made them Remus were pulled away like water through a strainer. And it left behind nothing but empty fog and plasticy warmth that felt so  _ wrong  _ it made them feel gross.  _ Them. Gross.  _

Remus hated it.

They wanted to go back to the white. They didn’t. They did. They didn’t.  _ UGH,  _ they didn’t  _ know  _ what they wanted anymore! They just wanted things to make  _ sense.  _ At least when they were locked up they knew what they were supposed to do - just stay there, do whatever, wait for their next meal. Don’t murder the Side who brings them food. 

But  _ no.  _ They had  _ no clue  _ what they were supposed to do, no clue what was allowed, what was tolerated, and what would get them locked up and killed. Maybe not killed. But being locked up wasn’t  _ that  _ bad, right? So what did it matter? Sure, it was lonely… and quiet… and empty… and blinding… and maybe they knew they’d quickly start hallucinating or conjuring monsters and possibly dropping into self harm… but they were never really hungry (lie) and they could do whatever they wanted (lie) and maybe Dee - Snakey - Dee-Dee - Janus? - would want to hang out with them again? 

_ Who’m I kidding. No one wants to hang out with me.  _

They were  _ trying.  _ They were trying so  _ hard  _ and it hurt. They held everything inside, and it gave them a headache and made the thoughts louder and louder and it made them itch with the need - no, the want, they didn’t  _ need  _ it - to scream or hit or bounce or flap or cry. They were quiet, and it  _ hurt,  _ and everyone kept telling them not to be quiet, but it was too late because they just  _ knew  _ that the moment they opened their mouth everything would come flying out and then there would be nightmare monsters and spiders and voices and everyone would  _ hate  _ them.  _ Don’t be stupid! They  _ **_already_ ** _ hate you!  _

The urge to stab someone was overwhelming. They just wanted to feel the adrenaline, push the blade into the skin, feel the resistance, watch it bubble up and bleed, hear the screams, shove someone,  _ break their arm, jump off of a tree and bash, bash, bash, bash with a  _ **_mace_ ** _ and push them over a cliff and drown them and  _ **_murder them, blood everywhere, the look of fear on their face -_ **

NO! They  _ didn’t  _ want that! They wanted to stab someone. They wanted to punch someone. They wanted to fight, fight, fight but they didn’t want them to be  _ afraid.  _ They wanted a  _ fight  _ not a massacre. They just wanted the fight without the hurt, they wanted to hurt someone but they didn’t want the someone to be hurt. It didn’t make  _ sense  _ but they just wanted what they wanted and they couldn’t  _ help it -  _ **_you can always help it, just stop, it’s wrong, IT’S WRONG._ **

Maybe Roman would be willing to help them. Maybe he would agree to a duel and then Remus would get their fight and Roman could make it so that he couldn’t feel pain, because they could do it in the Imagination, and it would get rid of the urge and it would feel so much  _ better.  _ But it was  _ wrong.  _ No fighting. No blood. No stabbing, no punching, no fighting, no blood, no pain, no dueling, no Roman, no Imagination,  _ be good.  _

Dee-Dee was acting weird. He put on  _ It  _ that morning, and then a playlist of YouTube videos about cryptids and serial killers. It was weird. Remus waited for someone to go and tell him to turn it off, to put on something nicer, but when Patton started to, Logan stopped him. And then they waited for Virgil to come down and start screaming - but Virgey just blinked at it and went to the kitchen. And then -  _ and then  _ \- they waited for Roman to start arguing about putting on Disney instead, but Roman just looked from Dee-Dee to the TV and then back to Dee-Dee and then at  _ them  _ and he nodded and didn’t say anything! 

Remus knew that if  _ they’d  _ put on  _ It  _ or YouTube videos about cryptids and serial killers, Patton would’ve started yelling at them and Roman would’ve stabbed them and Logan would’ve frowned and Virgil would’ve screamed and Dee-Dee would’ve sighed and turned it off and taken them back to the Dark Side.

But there wasn’t a Dark Side anymore, because Dee-Dee was accepted, and now Remus was accepted? But they knew it wasn’t true, they were still thinking, deciding if they deserved to stay or if they were just bad and had to be locked up. 

So maybe it was a them thing? Maybe it was okay if Dee-Dee did it, but not Remus? Because they were a stinky trash rat villain evil twin monster and Dee-Dee was a cool fancy snake boi? But that didn’t make sense, ‘cause the Light Sides didn’t do that. If something was bad, it was bad for everyone, and if anyone did it it was bad. If something was  _ good,  _ it was good for everyone, and if anyone did it it was good. Unless they did it wrong. So if they did exactly what Dee-Dee did, then it was good, because no one yelled or screamed or fought  _ him  _ yet. 

They quietly sat down on the other end of the couch, with their knees pulled up to their chest and their eyes flickering from the TV to whoever else happened to be in the room. Their heart was pounding, and they were prepared to jump up and run the moment someone looked displeased - but no one said anything. Logan nodded at Dee-Dee for some reason, and Roman smiled at them.  _ Roman smiled at them. Ro-Ro smiled at me! Why’d he do that? That’s weird? He doesn’t like me. Does he? He can’t. But he smiled? I don’t know…  _

After about half an hour, when no one had said a thing about it, Remus let themself focus on the TV and absorb all the interesting things about snakebites and baskets and murder. Hearing it all out loud - things that Patton wouldn’t like,  _ couldn’t like,  _ things that were so similar to the thoughts that screamed in their head - it helped. It gave their mind something to focus on, something that took control of the thoughts and directed them in one path, a path that Dee-Dee was on, too. They weren’t alone. It was fine. They felt… less cold. Almost  _ warm.  _

Things didn’t feel right. Things were confusing. There were good things and bad things, and… and they really, really didn’t want the good things to go away.

-

Virgil did  _ not  _ like Remus. At all. He hated them, hated how anxious he always felt around them, hated how Remus never seemed to care that they were being scary or evil. He hated the fact that they manipulated him into liking them as Imp, hated the fact that he still liked Imp. He wished that they weren’t there, that they could just leave everyone alone. He wanted Remus to go away.

But he remembered being the villain. He remembered what it felt like to not be wanted. He remembered quitting, deciding that everyone was better off without him, and he remembered being wrong. He remembered, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty, because Remus felt the same way that he used to. He felt guilty because he’d been a part of that. He was still a part of that. 

Janus - lying, sneaky, manipulative snake-face Janus - was important. No one thought that he was, but he was, just like with Virgil himself. History repeated. Villain, not-villain, accepted. The villains were never really villains. 

So even though he couldn’t think of a single reason why Intrusive Thoughts or Dark Creativity was important, he knew it was unlikely that there was suddenly an exception to the rule. Remus had proven, as Imp, that they could be… not scary. They’d gotten sick, and upset, and Virgil remembered the first time he’d met Remus - quiet and still, bright-eyed but broken. He’d known that they’d been imprisoned, he’d known for years, Janus had told him. Complained at first, then slowly stopped complaining. But until now, he hadn’t really  _ realized  _ what that meant.

A kid. Just a kid. Split from Creativity to be the evil twin, imprisoned for years. They’d never had a proper childhood; the only one they’d gotten was when they were someone else. Years of their life, spent locked up with only one person for company - someone who came once a day, who was their  _ captor.  _ Someone who they knew could free them, but wouldn’t. 

It… was… it was daunting. He could hardly imagine it. But… he had, as much as he could, involuntarily; and he couldn’t hate Remus so much anymore. He didn’t like them. But they didn’t deserve to be pushed away or locked up or deprived of the family that he himself once thought he’d never be a part of again. 

So when he saw a bloody crime scene on the TV when he came down for breakfast, he just blinked and tried his best to ignore it. Remus deserved that much.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to include Patton's thoughts, but it turns out I don't really like writing from his perspective much so I'm just leaving it a mystery. ;)
> 
> Next chapter we get to see Remus' new octopus that Janus is working on for them! Do you have any naming suggestions, mine venner?


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton's perspective! And Remus' again!

Patton… was very confused. In a lot of ways. 

There was the whole matter of Remus - he’d decided that they could do whatever they wanted to, as long as they didn’t hurt anyone, though he was still very uncomfortable with the idea of having them around. Or, well, he wasn’t really; Remus wasn’t exactly… themself, just then. They were very quiet, and they held themself as though the smallest thing would send them crumbling into pieces. He couldn’t deny that it made him sad, and admittedly guilty. He couldn’t bring himself to think about it in a good light, and he didn’t want to. It wasn’t good.

So, Remus really wasn’t the problem just then, which was… unsettling. 

No, it was everyone  _ else.  _

At first it was just Janus, starting to eat the most, ah,  _ interesting  _ combinations of food at dinnertime and making some jokes that Patton didn’t understand but, from the others’ reactions, knew that they weren’t exactly kid-friendly. Logan had taken him aside after he saw Janus watching horror movies, and explained that it was to help Remus, so he figured it was okay.

But then Roman started doing the same thing! His sense of humor became a lot more crude and… inappropriate, and he started putting about ten pounds of sugary things on  _ every single dish _ he ate. Again, Patton told himself that they were just doing it for Remus, and the Side did seem to be doing a little better than before - more relaxed - so he again let it go. 

And then Logan was doing it too, and suddenly Virgil was way more confident and sarcastic, and soon there wasn’t a single meal where everyone wasn't eating the weirdest things, making the grossest jokes, and laughing at them. 

Of course, everyone was still acting like themselves, sort of… Logan would still recite articles and share interesting facts, though they were admittedly a lot more disturbing than usual, and he still read every evening… even if Patton noticed the titles were… less than ideal. Roman would still watch Disney all the time - just, he’d point out some of the darker concepts, and watch some of the movies that he used to ignore in favor of, well, his favorites. Virgil would still wear his big headphones and scroll through Tumblr all day, and he still worried about a lot of things, but he seemed more… laid back? Which was good! Maybe! And he started sitting in even more unusual places than he normally sat on. And Janus was still as sarcastic and anti-societal as he always was, he just… hung around a bit more than normal and acted a lot looser-lipped. 

Patton couldn’t complain! No, really! They all looked more relaxed than they’d been in a while, Virgil was smiling more, Roman said less insecure comments, Logan looked brighter than ever, and Janus seemed happier. And he  _ knew  _ it was all for Remus, so it was good! And if it was good, Patton had no reason to dislike it.

_ But…  _ he had to admit, to himself at least, that he did. It made him feel disconcerted, it made him feel excluded, it made him feel uncomfortable and he hated that. Everyone seemed happier now, he had  _ no right  _ to hate it. He should be supporting them! He should try to do the same thing that they were trying to do! But… he wasn’t. He couldn’t help but bite back a scream of fright whenever he caught a glimpse of a horror flick, he couldn’t help the uncomfortable crawling feeling he felt whenever he actually did manage to understand one of their jokes, he couldn’t help but miss the fluffy optimism, the clean puns, the kids’ cartoons… he couldn’t help but miss being able to go out of his room without worrying about feeling uncomfortable or scared or feeling like he didn’t belong.

And then he decided that feeling like an outsider was the absolute worst feeling he’d ever felt before, and he sympathized with the former Dark Sides more than he wanted to. He knew how it felt to not feel comfortable at movie nights, knew how it felt to feel apprehensive at meals, knew how it felt to feel like he was doing everything wrong and he had to change everything about himself to even have a chance of fitting in again.

He was never going to let  _ anyone  _ feel that way again, not if he could help it. Well… if he ever managed to get over his current predicament. Or if things went back to the way it was before. 

And with everything that was happening, somehow…  _ somehow…  _ he’d started gravitating towards the only other Side who didn’t make him uncomfortable, and that Side ended up being Remus. 

-

They sat in the chair next to Roman, their shoulders hunched and their legs pressed together, and stared at their food. It was minestrone soup and two slices of garlic bread. They hadn’t touched it yet. They didn’t… they didn’t feel like eating. They just watched the flecks of oregano and basil swirl around on top of the glittery orange broth, and listened to the conversation around them numbly.

“ - and there are tiny mites living in most people’s eyelashes at any given time,” Logan finished his spiel of facts, and Remus noticed that Patton flinched and Virgil’s hands clenched a little, while Roman’s hand went up to touch his eyelashes.

Dee-Dee nodded. “Only ten percent of the cells in a human body  _ aren’t _ human. So, when someone does something, it’s  _ not  _ only ten percent the human’s fault, if you think about it…”

_ Oh… Dee-Dee’s using lie-talk around them now?  _ He only did that when he was really comfortable or careless. 

“Is that what ghosts are?” Virgil mused, grinning lopsidedly. “The ten percent of your body that’s human?”

“Well, if ghosts weren’t fictional, then that would be an interesting theory; however, that would mean that corpses aren’t human at all, which is a falsehood.” Logan explained, then paused to bring a spoonful of soup to his mouth. Patton averted his eyes. No one seemed to notice except for Remus. 

They weren’t bothered by the talk.  _ Lie.  _ They liked it.  _ Lie.  _ They felt completely comfortable with all these reminders of what they were trying to repress.  _ Lie.  _ It wasn’t making their brain buzz and it wasn’t making the churning  _ bad bad bad  _ things inside of them scratch at their throat and make their fingers twitch.  _ Lie.  _

It was so  _ hard.  _ They knew,  _ they knew,  _ that they couldn’t slip up, because the moment they did everything would explode out and everyone would die or hate them forever. 

And it was getting really hard not to slip.

The conversation kept going, but they couldn’t really understand it. The words just slipped through their mind and left their memory the moment they heard them. 

Then it grew back into focus again and Roman was saying, “So, what movies should we watch tonight? I was thinking maybe  _ Coraline,  _ or maybe  _ Endgame.” _

“There’s a show about criminal psychology I’ve been meaning to watch.”

“Cool, how about Black Cauldron too? Can’t go wrong with the classics.”

Dee-Dee nodded and Roman beamed. Patton bit his lip and didn’t say anything. Remus blinked, too tired to frown. Everyone else was acting weird, pushing all their thoughts, making them get closer and closer to exploding - Patton was the same, but quiet and less cheerful. He was safe. Remus wouldn’t risk slipping with Patton.

Everyone else stood up and started bringing their dishes to the sink, then left the kitchen and dining room laughing at a joke Virgil made about Iron Maidens, Roman giving Remus a hopeful look and Logan glancing at Patton before they went to the living room to start their movie night.

Remus watched Patton with a blank expression on their face - they were too tired to put effort into emotion, if they even knew what emotions they were supposed to be feeling. Patton looked down at his bowl, which he’d hardly touched, and started getting up. 

_ Of course he’s leaving. Just like  _ **_Roman._ ** _ Just like  _ **_Virgil._ ** _ Just like  _ **_Janus._ ** _ They always leave, they always leave, STOP HIM BEFORE HE LEAVES,  _ **_TIE HIM TO HIS CHAIR, BREAK HIS LEGS, ~~PIN HIM TO THE FLOOR AND~~_ ** ~~ **_MURDER HIM!_ ** ~~

Their eyes flickered down, just as their entire body glitched out of their chair to a standing position. Patton flinched, and he turned away, walking to the sink to pour his unwanted soup down the garbage disposal. Remus’ shoulders slumped a little more. They felt a stinging feeling behind their eyes, and when they went to rub it away, they glitched again - and suddenly everything was bigger.

They were Imp again. 

Patton hadn’t turned around again; he was facing the sink, with his back to them, cleaning the dishes. 

Imp crawled - they were too tired to walk - into the corner of the kitchen and curled up, letting their eyes follow the motions of Patton’s hands as he washed a bowl. They wanted to cry, but they were too tired, so they just sat there, curled up, watching Patton with a blank expression.

Some time later - maybe it was minutes, maybe it had been hours, it all felt the same to them, even though if they were bigger they would’ve realized that it didn’t take any longer than seven minutes to wash dishes - Patton turned around. He startled, making a small squeak of surprise, then looked around to see if there was anyone else around. There wasn’t.

“Uh…” his voice was very quiet, and he stopped and tried again. “Um, Ki - Remus, do you want me to get Roman for you?”

_ No.  _ They shook their head a little, blinking and glancing down. 

“Oh.” Patton hesitated. “Virgil?” They shook their head again. “Logan?” No. “Janus, then?” No. “O-oh. Do… do you want… um… m-me?”

They blinked, thinking. They glitched a little. Then they nodded, not looking up. 

“O-okay, then,” he giggled nervously, looking around again. Then he seemed to brighten and he smiled down at them. “Want to help me make some cookies?”

Imp nodded again, only because they were tired of having Patton ask them questions. Also, maybe a distraction would be the best… 

Patton lit up and started bustling about the kitchen, getting out ingredients and bowls and measuring cups, and Imp watched quietly, feeling the pressing buzz of thoughts quiet down a little and make them sleepy. Before they drifted off, Patton giggled and placed a mixing bowl filled with frosting ingredients in their lap, along with a spoon. 

“Mix it up until it’s nice and smooth, okay, Kiddo?” he said, smiling, and turned back to the counter where he was mixing the batter.

Imp nodded and started mixing, liking how the white liquid poured around the pink clumps, and how as they kept mixing it started looking like a swirl, then a through-and-through pastel pink. It was mindless, easy, but it made them feel… good. They smiled, just the tiniest bit.

Patton smiled at the frosting and took it, putting it on the counter before getting down all the necessary materials for cutting the cookie dough onto the floor so that Imp could reach it without getting up. They chose a cutter shaped like a bee and pressed it down, smiling a little more at the feeling of pushing through the dough. They poked it out onto the baking sheet and pushed it down on the dough again. 

When the cookies were in the oven, Patton sat down next to them and conjured up a game of Candyland. They played, and Imp won, making them bounce a little in their spot. They played again, and this time Patton won. When he did he conjured a bowl of butterfingers and started eating one, sharing with Imp. They smiled a little more fully. 

And when it was time to frost the cookies, Imp was grinning, putting sprinkles and M&Ms and drawing little scribbles on the pink frosting, while Patton playfully blew on them and put them ceremoniously on the cooking rack.

When they finished, Patton stuffed a pink sprinkle-bee cookie into his mouth and pretended like he hadn’t, looking around innocently with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

Imp giggled.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of Patton angst and a little bit of Remus fluff for you, mine venner~
> 
> So, here's my plan - Patton and Remus are going to get a lot closer now, because Remus is doing repression and it's easier with Patton than anyone else (unfortunate reasoning, but oh well, this is me we're talking about) and Patton feels more comfortable around them because of their silence (again, unfortunate). Basically, good things and bad things, and then there will be more good things and bad things.
> 
> Can anyone guess where this is headed?


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus goes to Dr Picani and regresses.

“This is definitely how this is supposed to be going,” Janus wrinkled his nose and sighed. 

“I agree, they seemed to be doing better at first, but now they exhibit discomfort and tension around us whenever we do anything typical of them.” Logan said, pacing his room while his conversation partner stood leaning against the wall, watching him. 

Janus frowned. “Last time this happened, Remus recovered steadily. There wasn’t a dip like this.”

Logan stopped pacing and looked at him with an unreadable expression, making him stiffen in anticipation. “‘Last time this happened’? This has occurred before?” 

He decidedly did  _ not  _ look at Logan when he shrugged nonchalantly and replied, “What did you  _ think _ happened when I freed them? That they immediately went on a destructive spree and completely destroyed the Dark Side? If they had, I’m fairly certain you would  _ definitely _ be standing right now. And breathing, for that matter.”

Logan didn’t say anything for a long moment. “I suppose not. I didn’t think about it as much as I now know I should have.” He paused, voice dropping to be quieter. “...how long were they…?”

Janus looked at him directly in the eyes and answered, “Nine years.”

Silence filled the room. 

“The first two years they were terrifying. They summoned nightmares from nothing and screamed at everything, and they spoke constantly of everything they thought of. The next three years were when they started to calm down and when… they started being my friend. The last four, the White was more like their room than their prison, and I spent… a lot of time with them. Even then, I was… too scared of what they might do that it was… hard to let them go.”

Logan closed his eyes.

_ “Creativity’s other half is ruining the Imagination! We gotta get rid of him, he’s ruining everything, he’s hurting Thomas!” a young Logic declares, slamming down his poorly drawn charts onto the table. _

_ Morality’s worry. Creativity’s anger. Anxiety’s fear. He turns away and looks right at Self-Preservation.  _

_ “You! You can keep him away from us. You gotta protect Thomas.” _

He opened his eyes and took a deep breath, letting go of the fuzziness that had started to fall over him. “Okay. We can… come back to that later, if necessary,” he paused. “If Remus is doing worse now, I think the only logical conclusion is that they’re repressing themself. It’s highly improbable that they’ve suddenly developed a dislike towards all the things they’ve proven an attachment to in the past. As they’ve said in the past, repression can be very bad - it’s possible that their repression has built up so much that they’re past the point of letting it out safely, in which case they’d keep repressing themself in order to protect us from the metaphorical explosion when they can no longer keep it inside. Being around others who encourage the thoughts they’re trying to repress increases the likelihood of failing to keep it repressed, which would lead to them avoiding anyone who does so.”

Janus blinked, surprised that Logan had come up with an explanation so… logically sound, in no more than half an hour. Then again, this was  _ Logic.  _ The Side completely dedicated to logical reasoning and conclusions. He didn’t  _ show  _ that, of course; no, he made sure he acted completely unaffected. Not impressed  _ at all.  _

“What  _ aren’t  _ we supposed to do, then?” he drawled, hiding his concern towards Remus. “We can definitely let them keep repressing this, but we totally want them to have a potentially dangerous breakdown.”

In all actuality, Janus already knew what they could do. He didn’t know why he was asking. Maybe to confirm that it was the best course of action? ...no, he  _ definitely  _ didn’t need anyone else, certainly not Logic, to reassure him of something he was already certain of. 

Logan stopped pacing and turned to the large whiteboard behind him, pausing to conjure a dry-erase marker before he said, “We give them a secure, safe space to release their repressed thoughts and emotions without putting anyone in harm’s way. The Imagination won’t work; time has proven that it unhealthily enhances unwanted feelings; and certainly not the real world… Perhaps I should consult Dr. Picani, he knows much more about psychiatry than I.”

-

Emile sat in his leather chair behind his desk, smiling despite the uncharacteristic nervousness he was feeling. He’d seen some of the Sides before - specifically, Logan and Patton - but neither of them had come for a session with him. Logan came when he wanted to learn about psychology and how to use it, Patton came when he was sad, though he always just brought cookies and asked Emile how things were going instead of talking through his feelings. 

Now, he was going to meet Remus. He was going to meet someone who he had just been informed had spent nine years in confinement and the rest being outcasted. He was going to meet someone recovering from a lifetime of neglect and mistreatment, and he was supposed to help them do that. 

Yes, he knew that theoretically, he could; but his normal area of expertise was with couples dealing with insecurity or an obsession with control, with people dealing with depression and anxiety; he’d never had sessions with an individual with so much weighing them down. He could hardly imagine how it must feel to try recovering from abuse while still being surrounded by your abusers, even if those people hadn’t meant to and were trying to do better. He was nervous, but… he was the only therapist in the Mindscape, and if nothing else, Remus needed a therapist. 

And he was going to do his best.

The door to his office opened, and he watched Logan hold it open for a Side that he assumed was Remus. They were wearing a black hoodie, black jeans, and boots that did not match the plainness of their outfit - obviously comfort objects, from the way they looked scuffed and worn, yet heavy and well taken care of. Their hair was much more grayscale than was normal for Sides, and their bangs were silver; they didn’t look dyed, though. Apart from that, they carried themself in a way that was clearly trying to be smaller, their shoulders hunched, their head angled down, and their eyes downcast. 

Then they were alone. Him in his leather chair, and Remus sitting curled up on the couch on the other side of his desk.

Emile didn’t miss the way Remus’ eyes were drawn to the big snail plushie on his desk.

“Hi! I’m Emile Picani, it’s nice to meet you, Remus!” he greeted, and the Side curled in on themself a little tighter. They didn’t make any move to acknowledge the greeting, but from the way their hazel eyes were fixed on his own, Emile knew that they’d heard him.

Their eyes flickered over to the snail again, and Emile asked quietly, “Do you want to hold it? I don’t mind.”

Remus blinked and looked at him again, not saying anything, but after a long minute they nodded, and Emile stood up and brought the plushie over to them. They took it silently, squeezing it to their chest subconsciously as their eyes remained fixed on him. 

As Emile was looking, their hazel eyes gradually began to lighten and change, until they were a bright emerald green.

-

Imp sat on the floor of the weird, colorful room, hugging a soft, squishy snail stuffie to their chest as they watched a toy train go around and around in circles on a train track. They were tired, but they liked watching the train and they liked hugging the snail and they liked talking to Picklee. Picklee told them to say  _ whatever  _ they wanted, and he didn’t say to be quiet, and he listened and Imp liked it  _ lots.  _

“ - and then the scorpion stabs the rabbit in the eye!” Picklee gasped, and they giggled. “And it’s bleeding  _ lots,  _ and the poison makes it fall out and then the rabbit only has  _ one eye  _ now, and it’s screaming and screaming and the screams make the scorpion  _ explode,  _ and then there’s guts everywhere!” They paused and frowned, looking up from the train to look at Picklee. “What color is scorpion blood?”

“I think it’s brown, but I’m not completely sure,” he answered. That was weird. Imp didn’t think anyone ever  _ answered  _ before. 

“Okay! So there was brown everywhere, and then the rabbit was a pirate, and it scareded everyone there and they all ran away. Then the rabbit was all alone, and it was too bright, and it was lonely, and then scary things came and hurted it and it cried and cried but it was  _ all alone,  _ and it was sad and lonely and scared but it was just alone because it was bad. So then the snakey came and they were friends and then it was better, but the snakey ran away because the rabbit was too scary, and the rabbit was so sad that it climbded a tree and died. And its body rotteded, and there were lots and lots of flies, and then everyone was happy and the rabbit was dead, the end!”

“Why is everyone happy?” Picklee asked.

“Um… because the rabbit was scary and bad and only had  _ one  _ eye!” Imp giggled, squeezing the snail and not looking away from the train. It was gray.

“Okay. What made the rabbit scary?” 

“It screams a lot and is too loud and it hurteded the other animals,” they explained. The train had shiny wheels. 

Picklee hummed and then asked, “Did it mean to?”

Imp tilted their head and frowned. The train had six cars. “Um… yep! It was bad and evil and scary and it wanteded to hurts  _ everyone  _ else! It was  _ super duper  _ bad and then everyone was happy because it dieded, but it was sads because it was  _ all  _ alone.” 

“But what if one of them  _ wasn’t  _ happy that it died?” 

They stared at the train for a long time. Its windows were shiny black and there were little gray hooks that kept it together. They shook their head and frowned, tears springing into their eyes in frustration. “No! It doesn’t  _ work  _ that way!”

Picklee’s voice got quieter. “Okay, I’m sorry. Do you want to do something else now?”

Imp sniffled and nodded. “Cuddles?”

“Of course,” Picklee smiled and held his arms out, and Imp - still clutching the snail - slowly went around the train and curled up in his lap.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short, mine venner, I'm dealing with a little bit of insomnia (read: I haven't slept for more than five hours in the last week) and will endeavor to do better! <3
> 
> So... what do you think? Should therapy help Remus slowly get better? Or should their repression break and make them go into yet another bout of temporary insanity? I do so love my angsty breakdowns!


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very angsty, Remus gets an urge and a flashback.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: graphic violence, thoughts of violence, captivity
> 
> Just thought I'd put that in there, just in case. Be safe! <3

_ What would happen if I just grabbed that knife and stabbed someone? Would they scream? If it was Logi- Logan he wouldn’t scream, he’d just pull it out and get rid of the blood. But An- Virgil would scream, he’d yell and faint and then my b- Roman would come in and stab me - or maybe not? He said he never wants to hurt me again, does that mean he’d just yell at me? Or maybe it means he’ll lock me u- no, Sna- Dee- Ja- Dee? said no one’s gonna lock me up. So what will he do? I need to know.  _

They were frozen, in the kitchen, their hand outstretched towards the knife block and their eyes fixed on the glinting metal. They couldn’t move even if they wanted to. They weren’t there, not really, they were glitching in place as they dissociated, thinking thoughts despite how much they’d fought it.

_ You need to know. Pick up the knife. Take it. Take it.  _ **_Take it, you need to know. Take it! What if you stabbed them again and again and again!? What if you tied them down and cut out their eyes and stabbed them so many times that they couldn’t remember their name!? YOU NEED TO KNOW, PICK UP THE KNIFE, STAB THEM, STAB THEM, WATCH THEM BLEED AND LAUGH AND LAUGH AND MAYBE YOU’LL GO INSANE - but you’re_ ** _ already insane, aren’t you. You’re already insane and there’s nothing you can do. _

_ It’s so shiny. The light bouncing off the metal. Will it be even more sparkly when you pick it up, when you drive it between their ribs, when you pull back and watch the blood drip, drip, drip from the tip of the blade?  _ **_You need to know. Pick it up. Pick it up RIGHT NOW._ ** Remus glitched again, slid into place, and before they realized what they were doing they were cradling the knife in their hands, giggling quietly with tears streaming down their cheeks. 

“Remus? Are you okay?” It was Logan. He couldn’t see their face, he was in the entrance of the kitchen, he didn’t know that they had a knife, he didn’t know what they were thinking, he didn’t know and Remus  _ hated that.  _

Their grip tightened on the knife.  _ Stab, stab, bleed, bleed, make him  _ **_scream, make him cry, watch the blood pour out, do it, DO IT, YOU NEED TO KNOW, come on, come on, you have to,_ ** _ you know you do… you’ll do it, won’t you? You’ve done it before. _

They jolted and glitched. “No I  _ haven’t,”  _ they hissed, words venomous and dripping with white-hot fury. “Don’t  _ lie  _ to me, you can’t  _ do  _ that!  _ Don’t  _ **_ever_ ** _ fucking lie to me.” _

“...Remus?” Logan was close. Too close. He was close enough to stab. 

Remus’ eyes darkened in anger and they stalked past him, slamming into his shoulder as they drove the knife into the wall behind him, right up to the handle. It was the right motion, it moved the right muscles, it felt  _ good  _ and they wanted  _ more.  _ They wanted so much more… 

They glitched again, and suddenly they were Imp, and they launched themself forwards and buried their head in Logan’s legs, apologies falling out of their mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I pushed you I hurted you I’m sorry, I won’t do it again I’m sorry!” They dissolved into incoherent sobs and clutched Logan tighter, shaking from fear and guilt.

“It’s alright, Remus, I’m not mad at you,” he said, and knelt down to give them a hug. They took it.

It wasn’t enough.

_ “Let me out.” It’s the first day since the beginning of their existence as themself and only themself that the pain isn’t unbearable, and they can’t focus on anything. At least when they’re hurting, they have something to focus on other than the nightmares that claw out of their mind and into reality. At least when they’re hurting, they can’t feel it when the monsters rip through their skin and dig through muscle. _

It was never enough.

_ But now they can. And they don’t like the way the multi-eyed winged shadow wolf is tearing apart their leg, stripping off the flesh and snapping their bone. It burns, and it’s freezing, and they don’t  _ **_like it._ ** _ “Let me out!” _

_ Snakey probably can’t hear them. He probably doesn’t care. He’s scared of them. They know because he always opens the door the barest amount and puts a tray of food and a glass of water inside, and he never comes to take them back. It’s for the best. They always end up shattering the glass and feeding the plates to some of the nicer nightmares anyways. _

They wanted it to be enough.

_ They haven’t cried. It’s not really worth it, at this point. But that doesn’t stop them from screaming when the voices start. _

**_no one wants you_ **

**_you’re bad_ **

**_you will never be free_ **

**_it will always hurt_ **

**_you deserve to be here_ **

**_you should just die_ **

**_pointless_ **

**_evil_ **

**_BAD_ **

_ “I KNOW!” they scream back, pained and raw. “I KNOW, JUST SHUT UP, STOP IT, ~~STOP IT!”~~ _

_ A door. Black and gold. The door handle turns. It opens… and they snarl, launching themself forward and slamming their hand against the wood before Snakey can close it. They’re strong. Very strong. They can hold it open and no matter what  _ **_they will keep it that way._ ** _ They look up into the wide, bicolored eyes of the snake, and they unhinge their jaw and scream,  _ **_~~“LET ME OUT!”~~ _ **

_ They’re dragged away from the door by the nightmare, by their mangled leg, and the door slams shut and vanishes, leaving only blinding, endless,  _ **_mindless white._ **

_ “Let me out…” tap tap tap tap “Let me  _ **_out, you can’t KEEP ME HERE.”_ ** _ tap tap tap “Let me out,” tap tap “let me out,” tap tap “you don’t  _ **_understand,_ ** _ you have to  _ **_let me out!”_ ** _ tap tap tap tap “P-please…?” _

_ -out for eight- tap tap tap tap _

_ They don’t cry. It’s not worth it.  _

_ Then why is their face wet? And why are they so warm?  _

_ -in for four- tap tap _

They were warm. They weren’t in pain. It wasn’t too bright, and nothing was white. They were in Logan’s arms and they were Imp. They were free. 

Why didn’t it feel that way?

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short, very angsty, and just the beginning of much, much more~


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus is starting to slip, some things happen, and people are getting along better than ever! Oh, and Remy's here!

_ Virgil is sitting on the velvet couch next to Deceit, curled up comfortably by the arm of the couch with his signature black and gray hoodie unzipped and his big headphones over his ears. They aren’t watching anything, despite what it might look like; Virgil is just reading up on how to defend yourself if someone tries to kidnap you (just a hobby of his) and Deceit is just reading some boring book about “how to lie convincingly”. They are both about eleven years old technically, but since they are in a mindscape filled with only other eleven year olds they don’t feel “young” perse.  _

_ They’re just sitting in a somewhat companionable silence, when Deceit suddenly jerks upright and drops his book, scaring Virgil into flinging off his headphones and glaring irritatedly. “What  _ **_is_ ** _ it, Deceit?” _

_ Deceit takes off his black beanie and runs a hand through his hair before pulling it back on. He turns away from Virgil and says with an obviously forced apathy, “I have to go feed them.” _

_ He doesn’t explain who “them” is. They both know who it is. Or,  _ **_what_ ** _ it is. It’s much easier to think of them as a “what” rather than a “who”, just like it’s easier to think of Patton as Morality and Roman as Creativity. It makes it hurt less. Virgil shrugs, once again feeling glad that it’s not  _ **_his_ ** _ job to feed the Dark Thoughts responsible for all the various injuries Deceit cleans and wraps almost every evening. _

_ Dark Thoughts doesn’t scream anymore, not like they used to, which sometimes makes him think about whether or not he can calm down enough to be safe. Then he remembers what happened to the Imagination, remembers that it’s all because of  _ **_them_ ** _ that the mindscape split, and thinks of all the injuries they give Deceit - and he shudders and once again comes to the conclusion that Dark Thoughts is better locked up.  _

_ - _

Remus was having a breakdown in Picani’s office. They couldn’t focus, their perspective kept shifting from the past to the present and it was dizzying, and they were digging their fingernails into their skin, drawing blood while Picani desperately tried to get them to calm down. But they couldn’t, they  _ couldn’t.  _

They wanted to scream. They wanted to cry. They wanted to punch something. They wanted to beat someone up, make them scream, make them cry, make them feel the same pain they were feeling and give them relief. 

But they didn’t want to hurt anyone, they  _ didn’t,  _ they wanted to but they didn’t at the same time… they couldn’t  _ handle it, they couldn’t  _ **_breathe, why couldn’t they breathe, they needed to breathe they needed blood they needed to SCREAM they needed to BREATHE they couldn’t BREATHE they were going to DIE AND THEY WOULD NEVER BREATHE AGAIN BUT THEY NEEDED TO -_ **

Suddenly they shoved it all down and locked it away. They were breathing normally, their eyes unfocused but definitely seeing the present. They could breathe. They didn’t want anything. They weren’t bad. They weren’t good. They were there, but they weren’t, and it didn’t matter anyways. 

And then they couldn’t breathe, and they were panicking, and they were being  _ ripped apart and it  _ **_hurt_ ** _ but it  _ **_didn’t_ ** _ and they wanted  _ **_OUT._ ** They were angry, and they were sad, and they were scared, and they were -

Calm. They had everything under control. Nothing mattered. They were fine. They weren’t holding back because there was nothing  _ to  _ hold back.

_ There was everything, and it was too heavy, and it was slowly crushing their ribs and the pressure sent waves of pain through them and they didn’t  _ **_like it, they didn’t._ **

Like what? There was nothing to like or dislike. What did it even matter? It was what it was. It didn’t really matter. They were fine. They were calm. They weren’t good and they weren’t bad, they just  _ were  _ and even that didn’t mean anything. It just meant they didn’t feel like fading at the moment, it would take too much effort and it didn’t matter enough to try. They were completely fine.

They were completely aware of the violently churning black mass of negative emotions and memories inside of them. They were completely aware of it. They weren’t ignoring it, perse, just… they weren’t accessing it. They knew it was there but they didn’t care enough to give it a way out. Remus swallowed down the last bits of it and just looked off into nothing. They were fine. They just didn’t feel like doing anything.

“Remus. It’s not healthy to repress things, you know that,” Picani said softly.

“I’m not repressing anything. There’s nothing there. I’m fine.” They lied. He wouldn’t understand.

-

Patton moved his checker piece, hopping over a black circle, then another, and then another. He grinned, flipping it over as he reached Remus’ side of the board. “My first King! You might want to double- _ check  _ your next move,” he declared, then giggled at his own joke. 

His opponent, a thirteen-year-old Remus, snorted at the pun and put their hand over their mouth in thought. They were both sitting criss-cross on the floor of Patton’s room, the board between them, where Patton had about six pieces and one King and Remus had four - and four Kings, too. Remus smirked and took one of their Kings from the diamond shape and jumped over two of his red pieces. “Monarchy is overrated.”

Well, now he only had five pieces total. He moved his King one diagonal. 

Remus pursed their lips and leaned forward a little, probably thinking about which move would get them more pieces. Patton didn’t doubt that they’d win - after all, they’d already won the last seven games. Patton wasn’t the best at checkers. 

When they looked like they’d started zoning out instead of thinking, Patton gently brought them back to reality by saying, “Do you think we’ll ever get  _ board  _ of playing?”

They blinked, present again, and grinned unsettlingly. Or, well, an older version of Patton would’ve found the sharp, too-wide smile unsettling, but now it was relieving, charismatic rather than disconcerting. They shrugged and moved another King, this time not jumping, but moving diagonally, setting up for a move that Patton was sure was there but couldn’t see.

He spotted an opportunity and grinned brightly, moving one of his few pieces to jump over one of Remus’ Kings. “Aha! Now you have a triarchy!” 

Remus grinned back and jumped over the piece he’d just moved, then jumped again, and again… and again…  _ oh shoot.  _ “I win!” they exclaimed smugly, louder than they usually allowed themself to talk. Then they pointed to their single King in the “graveyard” and said, “Now I rule over the underworld  _ and  _ the overworld. I’m a tyrant!”

_ Nooo… you have to be a nice ruler…  _ Patton whined internally, more jokingly than anything. He didn’t mind, he knew that Remus wouldn’t  _ actually  _ be a tyrant. Or at least that they wouldn’t get the chance. “What about my King?” he asked, pouting playfully. “The underworld has more of my subjects than yours.”

They shrugged. “Mine’s stronger. Rebels are thrown into the lava.”

He didn’t visualize it - he was getting better at just hearing what Remus said without actually thinking about it, and it helped a lot. He fake-sighed. “Oh well, guess we’ll just have to play again! Maybe I’ll win  _ this  _ time.”

-

“Done!”

Roman wiped the sweat off his brow and stepped back, proudly taking in his work. It was a large room modeled after a fencing gym, with a high ceiling, an empty, polished wooden floor, and a row of ten comfortable chairs behind a short railing. It hadn’t really taken that long to make, but it did take a fair amount of energy, since it wasn’t in the Imagination - it was a Dreamspace, a room in the mindscape that hadn’t been created naturally. 

“You did admirably,” Logan complimented from the doorway, where he had been holding up the reference picture on his laptop. He was getting better with compliments! Roman smiled. “Are you planning on using modern fencing equipment or your usual regalia?”

“Maybe we can try modern equipment some other time, but I think both of us would appreciate more medieval methods better,” he explained, the “us” referring to him and Remus. 

Logan nodded in understanding and shut his laptop, sending it away with a snap and walking closer to Roman. “We should start making arrangements soon, but perhaps it would be beneficial to take a short break first?”

Roman beamed. “That’s a wonderful idea,  _ catalejo!  _ Onward, to a lunch break!”

-

“Repeat after me,” Janus commanded, standing by his bookshelves while he had a Virgil tied to a chair that he’d recently bolted to the floor. Said Virgil rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, probably to say something sarcastic and not insulting at all.

Janus interrupted him before he could say anything.  _ “I, Virgil Sanders!”  _ he said loudly, “will not be an asshole to a certain best friend of Janus’ from here on out!”

_ That  _ shut the Virgil up quick. To Janus’ surprise, he didn’t protest, though he did look away and hunch his shoulders, and actually repeated - well, more like mumbled - “I, Virgil Sanders, will not be an asshole to a certain best friend of Janus’ from here on out.”

He got over his surprise quickly and clapped his hands once, determined to follow through with his brilliant schemes before he moved on to Step 3 and 7. (Yes, he was aware that his plan had not gone very chronologically, and no, he didn’t give a fuck.) “Great! Now: I,  _ Virgil Sanders,  _ will not punch people just because I don’t like them.”

The Virgil sighed and repeated, mumbling even quieter and more sarcastically, “I, Virgil Sanders, will not punch people just because I don’t like them…  _ unless they’re a stupid idiot and fucking deserve it.”  _ He emphasized his addition, glaring pointedly at Janus. 

“Fine.” Janus conceded. But then went right into the third statement. “I, Virgil Sanders, will apologize to a  _ certain best friend  _ of Janus’ for everything that warrants an apology.”

At that, the Virgil looked up seriously and said, “I, Virgil Sanders, will apologize to a certain best friend of Janus’ for everything that warrants an apology.”

Janus felt better now. He nodded in satisfaction and turned to go find Logan.  _ He’s probably in his room. It is around noon, though, he might be in the kitchen.  _ He and the nerd had been working on making Remus a pet, and they were really close to reaching the final design. 

“Hey! Aren’t you gonna let me out, snake-face!?” 

“It seems the Virgil has reached the limit of its cognizance,” he mused, shook his head, and pulled open his door. “Oh well.” 

-

“You go on  _ one  _ trip to Vegas and this is what happens.” Remy dropped his empty Starbucks into the trash can, shaking his head in disapproval. He summoned a new one. “Utter chaos.”

“It’s not  _ that  _ bad, Rem,” Emile laughed, rolling his eyes and clicking  _ play  _ on Steven Universe. They were re-watching it, for the third time. To celebrate the fact that Remy had only gotten lost for two weeks this time. 

-

Remus felt like they were breaking in half.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in a bit, I've been working on the ending and had to make a few revisions, so hopefully we'll get there in a few weeks. Thanks for continuing to read, mine venner! <3
> 
> What do you think? Are you looking forward to anything in particular, so I know to emphasize it? I appreciate comments and constructive criticism. :)
> 
> (This is going to be the first story I actually finish that's not a one-shot! I'm so excited!)


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some concerning things happen... Step 3 is accomplished... and there's a Creativitwins duel! Yay!

There was a knock on their door.  _ Ooh, who is -  _ **_What do they want!?_ ** _ Don’ be mean…  _ **_They deserve it!_ ** _ But… scary…  _ They shook themselves out of whatever weird shit was making them think so brokenly (ignoring the fact that they knew exactly what shit was doing it) and got up, silently walking across the stupidly clean - nice - ugly - room and opening the door.  _ Vee-Vee!  _ **_Anxiety._ ** _ I wanna go play wif him!  _ **_What is wrong with you?_ ** They just blinked.

“I-I-I just, um, wanted to… say…  _ I’mreallysorryforpunchingyouandI’llneverdoitagain!”  _

**_Sorry doesn’t cut it._ ** _ He punched me?  _ **_He did more than that._ ** _ I don’ ‘member…  _ **_What the hell? He LEFT. He left us. He left us and Dee-Dee and he pretended that we weren’t friends anymore and he screwed with our minds!_ ** _ But I don’ ‘member that! He’s nice! He says sorry! Now we can go play!  _ Remus shook their head, though it looked more like their upper half glitched out of sync with their lower half. “What’s it matter anyways? You punch like a toddler with polio.” 

V-  **_Anxiety_ ** hissed in indignation, “I do not!” 

It would’ve been funny. No, actually, it was funny. Funny that he thought he could even begin to compare his pathetic fists to the ridged claws of nightmares and the pain of being torn in half from the inside out. They snorted. “Yeah? I’d ask you to prove it, but I’m not in the mood. Bye-bye,  _ Anxiety!”  _

He turned his head to the side and muttered, “I probably deserved that,” just as they shut the door in his face and glitched when the metal of the door met the metal of the frame.

They walked across their room and sat down criss-cross on the floor, conjuring a large square canvas and summoning their rows and rows of acrylics, their water jar, and two fistfuls of various paintbrushes. They’d been meaning to do some art recently - and now they had the exact thing to draw!

They started with the background, just like any good painter. They split the canvas in half, with a light source in the middle; lime green on the right and darker green on the left. Across the lower half of the canvas, they painted a dry field of dead grass and weeds, with a knotted tree stump in the center, where the two halves met. Snapping it dry, they painted a crown on the stump, split in half - one side obsidian black and fragmented, the other perfectly intact and made of an almost glowing silver. 

They painted a person, with angry strokes and chaotic swirls, mid-jump with a glinting ash-gray morningstar over their head while crimson blood stained their chest in a diagonal slash, droplets spraying out everywhere with the force of the attack. Then they painted a child, little dashes and speckles, sitting in the dead brown grass, weaving a flower crown out of weeds with bright eyes and a little crooked smile. A shield of brilliant, iridescent red light showed in between the child and the person, and from the way the sky swirled away from it, it was perfectly clear that the morningstar would not break it. 

Because it was happening again. First, there was Romulus; a child’s Creativity, filled with innocent drawing of electrocution and dying cats and evil dragons and happy stick-figure families. But the others didn’t like that. They only wanted the happy things, not the  _ bad  _ things, and their scorn made him more than just him - he was two, he was  _ them,  _ and Romulus wasn’t there anymore - it was only Roman and Remus, twins, Good and Bad. 

Maybe… maybe there was a reason Remus had always been different from the other Sides. Maybe they didn’t feel right using singular pronouns because they  _ weren’t  _ singular.

Maybe Romulus was never meant to be Roman and Remus, two halves of Creativity, two parts of a whole - maybe he was supposed to be Roman, Re, and Imp. Three parts of Creativity, three parts of a whole. Dreams, Nightmares, and Questions. 

Maybe Remus wasn’t Remus anymore.

Maybe they were more than that.

Maybe they were going to split again.

_ I don’t want to.  _ **_We can’t do anything._ ** _ I want to be us again.  _ **_...yeah. Me too._ ** _ I don’t like it. I don’t want to split. I don’t want to go.  _ **_...me neither._ **

_ Can we fix it? _

**_I don’t know._ **

_...Can we try? _

**_Yeah. Yeah, we can._ **

They went to sink out - but they glitched instead, the world jerking away, and when it snapped back into place they were standing in the middle of Picani’s office, startling the Figment into dropping his pen and jumping in his leather chair. He recovered quickly, though, and pushed up his glasses as he settled back down.

“Remus,” his tone conveyed his surprise. “I wasn’t expecting you, is everything alright?”

They hunched their shoulders and looked down.  _ No, we gots to tell him!  _ They straightened themself, set their shoulders, and their eyes flashed green. “I’m gonna split again, but I don’t want to,” they stated, passion burning behind their words. “How do I stop it?”

Picani’s eyes widened slightly in shock, and his brows furrowed in concern. His finger tapped against his desk, betraying his fear, but his voice was nearly calm when he said, “I don’t know exactly, but if splitting is like unfusing in Steven Universe, communication and finding common ground is important. Sit down, I have an idea…”

-

“What?” Remus blinked at the two Sides at their door. They looked oddly pleased with themselves, and _ was that a tentacle behind Dee’s back?  _ Remus felt a spike of curiosity and excitement go buzzing through their body, and they glitched slightly with the intensity of it. They lifted up the hand that wasn’t resting on their doorknob to start flapping it, releasing some of the excessive energy, but they were still barely touching the floor in intrigue. They cocked their head.

Dee looked strangely excited, for someone who was normally so put-together and suave. Even his voice sounded like it was trying all too hard to hide his hopefulness. “We  _ definitely  _ didn’t make something for you.” It was funny, Dee-Dee and Lo-lipop were both known for being the calm, rational ones, but they were actually pretty bad at hiding their real feelings - Dee was trying so hard to sound like he didn’t care, and was failing miserably.

Logan nodded, and adjusted his glasses like the nerd he was. “We wanted to properly apologize for the way we’ve treated you, and as a start, we collaborated together and - ”

“What is it!?” they interrupted, bouncing a little, their eyes lit up a fiery emerald and their mouth stretched wide in a grin. “An eldritch horror? A flay? A jar of kidneys pickled in blood and stomach acid? A giant…” they trailed off when Dee pulled the thing out from behind his back and revealed it to be a spruce green octopus, half of its arms wrapped around Dee’s hands and the other half curling and uncurling in the air like it was looking for something to hold onto. And it didn’t look like a normal octopus, either; it looked too comfortable and not squishy-flat out of water. Its head was about as big as the spiked ball of their morningstar, and each of its tentacles looked about two feet long.

They just stood there, staring at it with an unblinking, glowing green gaze, for an uncomfortable amount of time (for Dee and Logan, at least, Remus was fine with it). 

Then, they carefully stretched out their hand, pausing momentarily before resting on the octopus’ head. Their expression didn’t change, eyes wide with awe. One by one, the octopus’ arms wrapped around their own. Its suckers on their skin felt funny, their suction was intriguing, and the moist, soft arms felt…  _ amazing.  _

Remus’ eyes lit up even more, and then they were grinning so widely that it would’ve hurt had they been anyone else. They moved their other hand to better hold up the octopus, and then they looked up in astonishment. 

“You made this? For  _ me?”  _ they looked from Logan to Deceit, then back to Logan, and back to Deceit again. They squinted suspiciously and held the octopus closer to their chest. “You try and take it back and I’ll murder you in the shower.”

“Why would we take it back? It’s for you,” Logan asked, confusion playing across his face. “That would be counterproductive.”

“No, I’m  _ definitely  _ going to spend days making you something you’d like just to take it away and make you hate me, because that would be  _ hilarious,”  _ Deceit deadpanned. “It’s yours, dummy.”

They looked back down at the curious, cold, and somewhat slimy creature in their hands, and felt something unexplainable bubble up inside of them. It was… mushy. And unbelieving. And completely, undeniably, happy. “I’m calling them Inky.”

It was… odd. This was the first time in a while that they felt… unanimous. Whole. Warm, but the good kind, not the weird plasticy kind. After their session with Picani, they’d almost felt this way, but now it felt real.  _ Right.  _ Maybe things would be okay?

-

Roman ushered everyone inside, leading them to the seats, and then summoning Remy and Emile too. He gave a quick summary of what was going on, too excited to be patient, and then jogged to the middle of the room where Remus was standing, head tilted curiously and hands shoved into the pockets of their jeans. He flashed a smile at his sibling and bowed dramatically.

“How do you feel about a little duel? No pain, no consequences, and an audience to boot?” he asked, enthusiasm showing in the way he was practically bouncing on his heels. He waited hopefully for Remus to give a reply, and the Side did seem to be thinking it over.

They grinned back at him. “Sure.”

Roman summoned his sword, and Remus summoned their morningstar, and then the duel began as the latter brought it crashing down and Roman barely managed to leap to the side and try to get in a swipe edgewise. His sibling was out of reach, however, and moments later they glitched forwards and knocked him to the ground.

“No fair!” he complained good-naturedly, and pushed Remus off, reversing their positions and trying to wrestle the weapon from his sibling’s grip. Remus just laughed, and jumped up, pushing him back and giving him only a fraction of time to shift into a defensive stance before they were attacking again. He knocked away the morningstar, fluidly twisting his body to get in the best position to drive his free fist into Remus’ gut.

Adrenaline was rushing through him, making his pulse quicken and making it impossible to stop grinning. He’d missed this - while the creatures of the Imagination were fun to defeat and brag over, they were never quite at the same level as his sibling. They couldn’t rationalize, come up with strategies, combat him on the same ground at the same height with familiar weaponry, while still managing to surprise him with every turn of the game. Remus  _ could.  _ And they  _ did.  _ He didn’t understand why he hadn’t asked sooner.

About nine minutes into their duel, Roman got nicked in several places and his left leg was no longer very useful, and Remus had the same, except his worst injury was on his right shoulder instead. Through the rush of movements and adrenaline, he’d managed to catch a glimpse of Patton turning his chair around, probably so he wouldn’t see the blood. Roman felt a rush of sympathy, but he couldn’t do much with it while his twin was advancing, rapidly deflecting his slashes and swipes, glitching every few seconds, but only the slightest bit.

There wasn’t time for witty banter, not like in Roman’s duels in the Imagination; everything was so fast, so powerful, it took all of his attention and strength to keep things even and there was no way he’d be able to come up with nicknames and taunts along with that. Besides, even he got tired of always having to talk sometimes. 

Remus swung their morningstar. He slammed the broad side of his sword into the hilt just above their fingers, and both weapons went spinning in opposite directions. He didn’t give his twin a moment to consider it, instead just balling up his fists and starting to finally practice with those martial arts that he’d been learning for years now. Surprisingly, Remus fell into the dance easily, slipping into the new fighting style with only a few stumbles.

He spun, knocking Remus’ fist out of the air with his foot and knocking them back with his other, Remus turned it into a flip and righted themself, just in time to aim a solid kick to his midsection and stop his advance before it started.

He briefly noticed Logan leaning over to tell Patton something, and Patton turning back around, probably because the bleeding had already stopped and faded away and there were no more weapons involved. Then Remus had him pinned to the ground, again, and he shoved him off, jumped up, and once again started his assault.

It was a little hard, because halfway through Remus glitched and threw him off, but he got in a number of decent blows. 

Everything blurred together. The only things that mattered were him and Remus, blocking, attacking, dodging, eyes focused and body moving without his conscious thought. It was a high that Roman loved and always aimed to reach. He  _ lived  _ for this feeling, the blood pumping, the adrenaline, the rapid-fire motions and reactions, the feeling that he was  _ alive  _ and that nothing mattered except the here and now. 

The duel ended when, after the peak, they both just started slowing down, tiring, until finally, they were just panting with their hands on their knees and their chests heaving. He guessed it was a tie or something. Not that it was a competition.

When he looked up again, Remus’ eyes were the brightest shade of golden-green that he’d ever seen on his twin before, and something about them just seemed right. 

Some days, he really missed having their voice and input in his head. He didn’t remember it very well, but he did know that he’d never been alone until the Split, and now? With Remus? Their pulses pounding in unison and their expressions near-identical, having just shared a natural high? He hoped neither of them would be alone again.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... how about that? Maybe Remus won't be Remus anymore... 
> 
> Just kidding. No character death here! And splitting them would count as character death! So you know things will turn out okay in the end. :) 
> 
> How am I doing in relation to the angst levels, mine venner? I'm trying really hard to not make it unnecessarily angsty...


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus’ birthday!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remus’ thoughts are mixed with normal italics and bold italics because they’re still not quite... together, yet. Just thought I’d mention that so you don’t get confused and think it’s emphasized! <3

Remus’ birthday was technically on June 4th, the day of the Split and Roman’s birthday, but they’d never celebrated on that day. Not when it carried so many bad memories. So their birthday was June 25th, instead. 

_ Today  _ was June 25th. Remus knew as soon as they woke up, because they had a calendar tacked to their ceiling right above their bed. They saw it, and then they just - froze. They didn’t know what to expect. Would there be a party? Patton would probably want a party. Would they remember though? It wasn’t like they  _ knew  _ their birthday wasn’t on the same day as Roman’s. 

_Wait, what_ ** _did_** _they_ ** _even_** _do for Ro’s_ ** _birthday?_** They were probably unconscious. Or dissociative. Or loopy. There were a lot of things that could’ve made them not realize. Remus was surprised that Roman hadn’t brought it up. 

Just as they were thinking about that, and feeling pretty out of it, Inky climbed onto their chest and wrapped nir tentacles around them in an action that reminded them of a hug. Slowly, they returned to their body, and they carefully pulled Inky off of them so that they could sit up. Ne moved to climb up their arm instead, not even flinching when Remus glitched off their bed and into their clothes. 

They couldn’t help but grin at that. Inky was the  _ best octopus ever.  _ And ne got neopronouns because  _ fuck the gender binary  _ and ne didn’t have to be anything if ne didn’t want to be, and there was no way to tell if ne did have anything ne wanted to be, so… neopronouns for nir! 

Inky settled on their shoulders -  _ shoulder octopus! -  _ with one of nir tentacles in their hair and another loosely around their neck. Remus pet one of them, then took a deep breath and decided to go down to breakfast. They  _ were  _ hungry… and… maybe they could have lemon juice and cereal.  _ In  _ the cereal. That would be nice. It  _ was  _ their birthday, and everyone seemed to be fine with weird food, if Virgie’s waffle with ice cream, maple syrup, and a pancake with whipped cream on top yesterday was anything to go by. 

Justifying it to themself, they nodded and bounced a little as they crossed their room, pulled open the door, and started down the hall.

When they reached the commons, they stopped in the entrance of the hallway, a strong feeling of vertigo suddenly sending them in a rush of memories and confusion. It just - it just - it looked - it was so - it looked so  _ much  _ like the Dark Side commons. The color scheme had darkened, there were little objects and furniture that they  _ knew  _ were from the other commons, the one that had disappeared months ago. There was the old wooden clock next to the fireplace, the dark mahogany coffee table with the  _ exact same  _ scratches and stains from Remus’ various games, the picture frames with pictures of them and Virgil and Dee,  _ happy -  _ had everything been a dream? Were they back in the Dark Side? Had they gone back in time? Was Dee going to look up from his armchair and roll his eyes and sip his wine and ask what they were waiting around for, was Anxiety going to pop up the moment they sat down and plop down on their lap because they were really warm, was Ro gonna hate them again, was Patton gonna scream -

But no, it wasn’t the same, the couches were too fluffy, they had too many pillows and blankets on them, the TV didn’t have the crack down the left corner, the carpet was too beige, the windows didn’t have dark curtains, and the ceiling was higher. It wasn’t the Dark Side. But it looked so similar - what happened? 

Inky wrapped a tentacle around their arm and squeezed, having noticed their disorientation, and Remus blinked out of their thoughts.  _ I guess  _ **_something happened,_ ** _ maybe Dee-Dee was  _ **_decorating and_ ** _ Vee-Vee helped? Yeah…  _ **_wait, it’s my_ ** _ birthday, so is this… is this  _ **_for me? It_ ** _ can’t _ **_be a_ ** _ coincidence…  _

They took a hesitant step forward, then another. When they were five paces into the commons, there was a trumpet sound, and suddenly everything exploded in color. Banners appeared and unfurled - “Happy Birthday Remus!” - balloons floated up to the ceiling, confetti popped from  _ somewhere,  _ and all the others rose up and shouted, “Surprise!” (Except Virgie muttered it, Logan sounded kinda unenthusiastic, and Dee said “totally expected occurrence”)

Remus felt themself regress a little, Inky getting a bit heavier on their shoulders, and their eyes lit up in happiness. They bounced and flapped their hands, grinning unabashedly and looking from one Side to the next to take it all in. “Is it for me!?” they asked, voice higher pitched than normal and excitement bursting from every word. 

“What do you think, the banner literally has your name on it,” Virgil muttered sarcastically, until Roman elbowed him in the ribs and nodded enthusiastically.

“It was Janus’ idea to redecorate, and my idea for a surprise, and Virgil made all the decorations!” Roman explained, tone showing pride and a hint of teasing at the last part. Remus looked at Virgil, who was blushing furiously, and snickered. “Logan and Patton made the food and cake!”

Remus giggled and dropped a little further. Inky climbed down and headed off to lurk under the couch. 

They ran forward and hugged Roman’s midsection tightly, feeling so happy that they were almost crying.  _ Ooh! What if the  _ **_balloons are_ ** _ made of  _ **_hydrogen?_ ** _ What if  _ **_I could_ ** _ take the candles on my cake and  _ **_throw them_ ** _ and then there’s  _ **_an explosion and_ ** _ everything’s  _ **_gone?_ ** _ What if -  _

“Let’s go have the cake!” Patton announced happily.

Roman picked them up, and they giggled as they all headed to the kitchen. Their brother huffed a little, giving them a look of surprise. “You’re so warm!” 

They snickered and said, “What-if I got hotter! You’d melty, squish-squish splashy!” 

It probably didn’t make much sense, but Roman laughed, and sat them down at their spot, right in front of the green-frosted cake that said, “Enjoy the Day Set Aside as the Anniversary of the Day You Came Into Existence Even Though it’s Not, Remus.” It was pretty obvious who wrote it. 

Looking up, Logan was a little red, and Patton explained sheepishly, “He’s the only one with good hand- _ icing.”  _

Imp - no. Remus grinned. They reached forward and plucked out the still-lit birthday candles, shoving the burning wicks into their mouth to extinguish them. Patton yelped, and Virgil jolted in surprise, but when they didn’t start screaming or crying, they smiled hesitantly. 

Remus felt like… maybe Imp didn’t have to be someone else. They were Imp. They were  _ Remus.  _ And… maybe that was okay.

-

When Remus returned to their adult headspace, it was time for gifts. They all sat in a circle, with the pile of colorful boxes in the middle of them, and Inky came back out of nir hiding spot - startling Virgil - and climbed into Remus’ lap. 

Patton picked up a box with a frilly white bow and green wrapping paper, passing it to Remus with an excited smile. “This one’s mine! I didn’t know what to get you, so I just got you, well, you’ll see!”

Remus ripped open the wrappings, tearing the paper off, and lifted the lid of the shoebox underneath. Inside, there was a fluffy magenta octopus with two green button eyes, and seeing it almost made them regress again. They grinned and picked it up, and Inky’s tentacles almost immediately snatched it away and hugged it close. “Guess it’s Inky’s now,” Virgil snickered, and Remus snorted, saying, “They’re fuckbuddies!” 

Roman let out a startled laugh, and when Patton pouted exaggeratedly he laughed into his hand instead. Logan passed Remus another gift, one that was quite obviously a book. It turned out to be “What Exactly Lies at the Bottom of the Ocean” - everyone could  _ not  _ stop laughing at that one, and Remus hadn’t thought that Logan had such a sense of humor. 

Virgil’s gift was a hand-made hoodie, black with exaggerated green stitching and a rat skull patch stitched over the middle and the zipper. Remus put it on immediately, and couldn’t help but feel a rush of euphoria at the softness and weight of it. 

Roman gave Remus a silver cast of an ant hill, painted with a rainbow of colors that faded to black at the complicated, maze-like base. (Yes, the innuendo was  _ not  _ lost on them, and they grinned at the idea that Roman would go out of his way to put it in there.) 

And Dee-Dee’s gift - 

_ Janus falls out of bed.  _

_ He’s just woken up about ten minutes ago, stared at the ceiling painted to look like the roof of a cave (courtesy of Remus) for a while, thought about the day Remus painted it for him, which also happened to be his non-birthday - which led to him thinking about birthdays, of course, and then he remembered that it was June 24th which is practically June 25th which is Remus’ birthday (a healthy 21 days after the Split and Roman’s birthday) and he hasn’t prepared anything yet, which startled him and landed him where he is now - _

_ Face-planted on the floor with silky and very fluffy black blankets wrapped around his legs, in his double-headed snake pajamas with a bedhead and probably a broken nose. _

_ He kicks the blankets away and pulls himself to his feet, left hand cradling his bloody nose. Then, snapping his blankets back into place, he takes a deep breath and tells himself that  _ **_his nose isn’t bleeding._ ** _ And then it isn’t. _

_ He snaps into his usual outfit, pulls the rim of his bowler hat down a little, and starts pacing.  _

_ “What can I get them? I already gave them Inky, although I have to admit, it - wait, does Inky have a gender? Pronouns? I’ll have to ask - would’ve made a perfect gift.  _

_ “Okay… hm… perhaps a weapon of some sort? Yes, that could work… but it definitely can’t just be conjured, that would be infuriatingly lazy and stupid. They already have a morningstar, and they like that a lot, so not a sword or anything big… a knife? No, this is  _ **_Remus,_ ** _ it has to be a dagger. Or a butterfly knife. A switchblade?” _

_ He stops pacing and decides to summon all three, just to get a feel for what they’ll look like outside of his mind. Immediately, the switchblade looks the most promising to him, so he vanishes the other two and summons his phone to look up a how-to manual for forging a blade. _

_ An hour later, he conjures a furnace, a hammer, and a mini-anvil - all polished with gold accents, of course.  _

_ “Let’s  _ **_not_ ** _ do thisss…” _

\- Dee’s gift was a switchblade with an ebony handle, little shards of obsidian embedded into it, and a blade made of steel polished so brightly it was like a silver mirror. And written on the flat side of it was the engraving:  _ Dukey.  _

Remus  _ loved  _ it. They loved them all, but for some reason, Dee’s gift made them tear up and launch themselves forward - dislodging Inky - to envelop him in a hug. 

“Thanks, Dee-Dee! I love it!”

Later, after a hilariously fun round of Truth or Dare, Remy gave them a cup of coffee (which was basically  _ proposing  _ coming from  _ him) _ and Emile gave them a Steven Universe poster with Amethyst on it. 

Remus couldn’t remember a single birthday they’d had that could compare to this one, and maybe, just maybe, they were okay with that. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I’m nearing the end of this story, mine venner, and all that’s left to do is introduce Thomas into the mix. :)
> 
> (Btw, in this story, Thomas doesn’t summon his Sides very often, only when something important happens or when he’s filming a Sanders Sides Episode.)


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas is Confusion. <3

Thomas was  _ super freaking nervous.  _ He’d been doing pretty good for a while now, though there was that weird day where he literally could not get Hamilton songs out of his head and that one time he was just re-reading Harry Potter and he just burst into tears when Ron was mean to Hermione in the first book… 

Anyway. He was nervous. Why? Because he was going on a  _ third date  _ with Nico and he really, really wanted to ask him to be his boyfriend but he was afraid of slipping up and accidentally doing something super embarrassing. Or what if Nico thought it was moving too fast? Or what if he really didn’t like him and was just dating him to be nice? Or what if he said it in an awkward moment? 

Needless to say, this was the exact kind of important event that warranted him holding a meeting between him and his sides.

So that led him to where he was now - standing in the middle of his living room, again, but with no camera; summoning Virgil first.

His Anxiety popped up on the stairs, as usual, wearing his normal purple-patched hoodie and dark eyeshadow, arms folded. “Don’t do it,” he said.

“But I… didn’t tell you what the problem was yet…?” Thomas floundered, looking around, wondering if there was some sort of cue card telling Virgil what was going on. Virgil snickered and waved his hand dismissively.

“I’m your Anxiety,” he said, a hint of humor in his voice. “I obviously know what your  _ anxious thoughts  _ are about. And I say  _ don’t do it.  _ He can ask  _ you,  _ and you can say yes, but you are  _ not  _ risking it.”

“But Virgilllllll…!” Roman whined, rising up with his hands pressed together pleadingly. “Nico would be so impressed! And what if  _ he’s  _ waiting for  _ us  _ to ask first? What if  _ he’s  _ worried about moving too fast? We’d be waiting forever!”

“Yeah, but we can wait longer,” Virgil huffed, rolling his eyes with a certain fondness in them, even though his tone was annoyed.

Thomas ran a hand through his hair. “I can see where this is going. Patton, Logan!” The other two sides rose up, Logan with an eyebrow raised and Patton looking completely confused. “I want to ask Nico to be my boyfriend today but I’m nervous and maybe I shouldn’t…?” he summarized, ending weakly.

Logan frowned. “You should just ask him. State that you wish to be his boyfriend, and ask if it’s okay. If he’s not okay with it yet, he’ll just tell you, and you’ll keep going as things are.”

Thomas bit his lip and looked over to Patton, who smiled encouragingly. He nodded towards Thomas’ logical side and said brightly, “I agree with Logan, Kiddo. Get everything out in the open, and if he wants to, he can take the opportunity and everyone will be happy!”

Virgil was quiet, which was different, and a few moments later he hummed and said, “I guess that could work…”

Well that was new. Thomas didn’t think he’d ever seen Virgil change his mind so quickly, it was disorienting, and yet it made him feel a lot better. He smiled hesitantly when Virgil looked up, noticing his gaze. 

Roman sighed exaggeratedly. “Fiiiine…” and then he snorted and grinned. “It sounds wonderful, Talking Black Sunshine!”

“Was that a really bad  _ Taking Back Sunday _ pun?” Virgil snickered good-naturedly, and Roman’s face went a little red, but he laughed and shrugged. “There are only so many emo bands out there!”

Thomas’ mouth dropped open. This was… arguably the quickest debate his sides had ever had, and the conclusion made  _ perfect sense,  _ and everyone was getting along.  _ What happened??? Did something happen in between now and the last time I saw them?? What in the freaking hell!? How did I not know about this!? This is great! _

“Are you quite alright, Thomas?” Logan asked, but he just opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish, unable to form any words. Logan frowned in concern and walked over, laying his hand on his shoulder. “Blink once for yes, blink twice for no.”

Thomas blinked once, and Logan relaxed just the slightest bit. Without turning away, his logical side called out behind him, “Janus!” The scaled side popped up a few feet away. “What happened to Thomas?”

Janus walked over and looked him up and down, then blepped a little and grinned. “He’s definitely  _ not  _ just confused because you’re all being so  _ loud  _ and  _ disputatious.”  _

Everyone looked immediately relieved and significantly amused, especially Virgil, who was laughing into the sleeve of his hoodie and disguising it as a cough. Thomas flushed in embarrassment, but he was even more confused with the completely peaceful introduction of his deceitful side. No hissing, no shouting, Roman and Virgil didn’t even seem  _ mildly  _ put off by Janus’ presence.

Speaking of Janus, he was outright giggling by now. “H-he’s - he completely understands why you guys aren’t - aren’t sneering at me!”

Virgil doubled over in laughter, as Roman started snickering, and Thomas buried his face in his hands. “Just tell me what happened,” he pleaded, voice muffled, knowing that his face was bright red.

Things quieted. It wasn’t immediate, but it was there; it took only twenty-eight seconds for the mood of the room to shift from teasing and jocular to awkward and somewhat… heavier. Like whatever it was, it wasn’t something they were so quick to share. Something… not so nice. Thomas immediately felt bad for asking.

Logan was the one who answered his question, which,  _ of course.  _ Logan was probably the only one capable of responding just then. “Remus.” He said it with an unreadable expression, and the first thought that came into Thomas’ mind was,  _ What did Remus do?  _ But then Logan’s eyes softened, and his lips twitched upwards, and he continued, “We accepted Remus.”

Thomas had to blink hard, and looked at the others, to try and see if he was hearing things or if… if Logan had actually  _ said  _ that. He looked to Janus with a silent question.  _ Remus?  _ Janus grimaced briefly, and it gave Thomas the feeling that he shouldn’t have asked, and he nodded. 

_ Okay then.  _ He nodded slowly, and tried to recover from his shock. “Remus. Okay… Okay. Remus.” He shook his head. “You’ll have to tell me how that happened, but I guess if you guys accepted him I should too.”

Patton nodded and smiled proudly. “Good job, Kiddo!” 

Thomas somehow felt like he still hadn’t quite fixed the tension in the air. He tried again. “Should… should I talk to hi-”

“Them,” both Janus and Virgil interrupted.

“Wh-” he shook his head.  _ That’s a question for another day.  _ “Okay. Should I talk to them?”

Logan nodded, and so did Janus and Patton. “That would be beneficial. Though perhaps not at this moment. Remus is in the middle of a session with Dr. Picani, and it would be inopportune, not to mention rude, to interrupt them.”

This was just making him have more questions. Dr. Picani? They did therapy? Did everyone? Why did Remus go to therapy? Thomas swallowed them and just shook his head again. “Okay. I’ll talk to h-them later.”

There were some nods, a few smiles, and then they all sunk out and Thomas was alone in his living room, feeling better about his problem but feeling extremely confused about some things that he hadn’t even known about fifteen minutes ago. He shook his head yet again, and told himself that he’d get some answers soon. Right now, he had to get ready for his date -  _ eek, date! -  _ with Nico.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit short, but we're getting close to the end! The next chapter is the last one - and then it's going to be the epilogue.
> 
> How am I doing with drawing things closed, mine venner? I'm really new to this... finishing stories business. ;)


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas and Remus' Really Awkward Conversation.

He’d procrastinated as much as he could. He’d taken the long way home from his date with Nico - a date that went  _ very well,  _ by the way; they were boyfriends now! - even stopping at Starbucks and eating lunch. He’d gotten home, taken a very long shower, and dressed in his favorite shirt, the one with the bubbles. Then he’d noticed that his laundry needed folding, and he’d gotten that done, and  _ then  _ he’d cleaned up the whole kitchen. 

Who knew procrastinating could make him so productive?

That aside, Thomas had done everything he could possibly do to excuse himself from having to summon Remus, and now he was wondering why he’d done that. What was so bad about talking to them? Clearly they weren’t as bad as he’d thought, since literally  _ all of his other sides  _ had accepted them already. And he  _ was  _ curious about what exactly had happened. And why they went to therapy. Also, therapy? In his head? - no, nope, not that one, no need for an existential crisis. 

So here he was, standing in the middle of his living room -  _ again  _ \- and bracing himself for summoning the part of him that ate deodorant and made sex jokes. 

To his surprise, when Remus appeared they weren’t behind the TV like before, but in Roman’s spot, and they were wearing a black hoodie with neon green stitching and the same boots they’d worn before, but with ripped jeans instead of leggings. They looked… different, than when he’d last seen them, but Thomas couldn’t pinpoint why, exactly. Maybe it was the uncharacteristically nervous look on their face, coupled with the absence of their usual makeup in favor of simple gray and green eyeshadow. Maybe it was the fact that they looked… smaller? Like how he’d looked a few years ago. 

Whatever it was, Thomas tried not to let his surprise show, just giving an equally nervous smile and saying awkwardly, “Heyyy… you.”

Remus wrinkled their nose in amusement and slid their hands into their front pockets, relaxing at the weak greeting - which was  _ not  _ the intended effect, by the way, but worked well enough for him. 

“So…” he tried, since Remus didn’t look like they were going to say anything. “You… got accepted?”

They grimaced, which was probably an appropriate reaction. “Yeah.” They grinned a little. “Bet that’s a surprise, huh, Thomathy? Ro-Ro’s  _ evil twin  _ getting accepted into the Thomasphere?” It would’ve sounded like a biting joke, but Remus said it too slowly, so it sounded more like they were equally as disbelieving of it. “I guess when you find out your trash is also your best friend it doesn’t count as trash anymore.”

“Was that… supposed to make sense?” Thomas joked awkwardly, feeling like he was still missing something. A lot of things, actually.

Remus raised an eyebrow.  _ Of course, “there is no rhyme or reason” after all. It’s like, their whole thing.  _

Thomas shook his head and decided to change the subject, maybe get some actual information instead of trying pleasantries. “Okay, yeah. Um… so… are you gonna keep giving me intrusive thoughts now that you’re accepted or… what?”

They grinned - concerningly - and replied, “Oh, I don’t give you intrusive thoughts. You’re basically stealing them from me. I get a  _ lot  _ more than you ever see, Tommy.”

_ Oh. Okay, that makes a lot of sense. Just like Anxiety has anxiety, it makes sense that Intrusive Thoughts would have intrusive thoughts too.  _ Thomas nodded in understanding. “Okay. So… is there anything you need from me?”

Remus tilted their head. “Hm…”  _ and this is where I immediately regret asking.  _ “Not really.”  _...what?  _ “Maybe just listen to me every once in a while. I mean, ya got two Creativities, ya might as well use ‘em.” 

“...okay.” Thomas didn’t really know how to proceed, so he just went ahead and asked one of the bigger questions in his mind. “So how did it happen?”

They didn’t look like they wanted to answer that, but they did anyway. “A lot of shit happened, but basically… I got sick.”

That… okay. That was an answer. It still raised more questions than it answered - like, sides could get  _ sick?  _ \- but he could kind of see how it could’ve happened now. He nodded, and there was a really awkward silence, and then he said hesitantly, “I guess I’ll… see you around?”

They nodded back and shrugged, and when Thomas blinked, they were gone, like they glitched out of existence. Or, back to their room, he guessed.

_ I should probably talk to my Sides more often.  _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really short, sorry... heh. I'm just kind of hoping to end on 30 because it's a nice number and I'd feel better if it ended there, so I'm stretching it a little. But what do you think?


	30. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus goes back to the White.

Remus stood on a pure white floor, surrounded by endless white. It wasn’t warm and it wasn’t cold. It was nothing. No smell, no temperature, nothing. 

_ “DON’T LEAVE ME HERE!”  _

_ Nightmares ripping out of the air, made by them, turning against them. Too many eyes and too many teeth and so much  _ **_blood,_ ** _ searing pain and endless white, hunger twisting their stomach into knots. Screams and shattering glass, sobs and pain,  _ **_crushing loneliness._ **

_ “LET ME OUT!” _

_ How could Snakey just leave? How could he leave them in here? IT ISN’T FAIR. They want out, they need out, why can’t they have it!? They didn’t mean to be bad! They didn’t mean to ruin everything! It just hurt so much, it still hurts, what did they do? Why?  _ **_WHY!?_ **

_ “Let me out…” _

Inky was on their shoulder, nir tentacles wrapped around their torso and arm, like a pirate’s parrot but a lot better. Ne was rubbing nir head against theirs comfortingly.

_ “Do you not have an… ace of hearts?” _

_ They grin and shake their head, and a zombie piranha jumps out of the floor as they gleefully cackle, “Nope! Go fish.” _

_ “Oh yes, and we’re definitely playing Go Fish,” Snakey snickers. _

Remus sat down criss-cross, taking a deep breath.

_ They’re bleeding out when Snakey comes. A harpy flew off with their spleen, and faded a few minutes away, so now they don’t have a spleen anymore. It’s kinda funny. They’re not laughing though. They’re crying, because they don’t like the hot blood pooling beneath them and the familiar throbbing of pain. _

_ Snakey kneels down next to them, panicked, and presses a hand against their chest. A weird, angry look comes over him, and he says firmly,  _ **_“You’re not bleeding. You’re fine. It doesn’t hurt.”_ **

_ They believe him. They believe him, because now they aren’t bleeding, and it doesn’t hurt. They’re fine. Their spleen is back, the harpy is gone, and Snakey’s here. _

_ They giggle weakly. “Didja bring the bleach?” _

They imagined the smooth, white floor cracking, giving way to blades of dark green grass. They imagined the air filling with gray and blue like a paintbrush in water, billowing out and slowly bleeding into everything. They imagined walls, and they imagined them shattering into a million shards of pure white stone, opening out into a dark forest with snow blanketing the ground and an old theatre in the distance.

_ Snakey’s late. He’s never been late before. But he must be late, because Remus is hungry, and they don’t know what they’ve done wrong. They thought Snakey liked visiting them. Maybe not, if he’s not here. Maybe something happened. Maybe he’s in danger. _

_ The door. The door is here. It’s opening, and Snakey is there, and they ask if he’s okay - _

_ “No one hurt me, Remus.  _ **_I’m letting you out.”_ **

They imagined the white being eaten by color, consumed by their Imagination, and they imagined the remnants of their prison crumbling into nothing. Some of Inky’s tentacles relinquished nir hold on them, as ne reached out as if to make sure that it was real.

_ Pain, so much pain,  _ **_it hurts it hurts ~~it hurts~~_ **

_ They’re  _ **_alone_ **

**_Alone_ **

**_Alone_ **

~~**_Alone_ ** ~~

_ They don’t want to be alone, ~~why are they alone~~ _

_ What did they do wrong _

_ They didn’t mean to _

_ Where is he where is he where is he _

_ “Let me out!” _

_ They’re alone, they’re  _ **_alone, ALONE ~~ALONE ALONE~~_ **

_ It hurts it ~~hurts it hurts~~ _

_ Where is he _

_ It hurts so bad why does it hurt _

~~**_ALONE,_ ** ~~ _ they’re alone, they’re alone alone alone alone _

_ “Where is Snakey, where is Snakey~” _

_ Alone alone alone, why are they alone, they’re bored when they’re alone _

_ It hurts _

_ It hurts so much _

~~**_STOP IT HURTS_ ** ~~

**_“LET ME OUT!”_ **

_ “Didja bring the bleach?” _

**_“Why!? WHAT DID I DO WRONG I CAN FIX IT ~~PLEASE!”~~_ **

_ “Oh, yes, and we’re definitely playing Go Fish.” _

**_Alone, ALONE_ **

_ They’re bored, there’s nothing to do and everything is wrong _

_ Nightmares, pain, it hurts, they’re so  _ **_alone_ ** _ where is their other half  _ **_where is he_ **

_ “So, Anxiety isn't the other Dark Side…” _

_ Bash, bash, bash, bash their head on the floor, watch the blood, watch it, watch the blood, it’s so pretty and sparkly  _ **_it hurts it hurts_ ** _ watch it, bash, bash, bash,  _ **_stop it stop it ~~STOP IT~~_ **

_ “...and Logic isn't the only sensible one…” _

_ It's funny, it's funny, they're alone alone alone _

_ It's so funny _

_ Laugh, **laugh,** it's funny, they're supposed to **laugh** _

_ No more pain but they're alone, it still hurts, why _

_ "Yes, and Morality is the best, he totally understands right and wrong." _

_ "What about Roman?" _

_ “Let me out…” _

~~**_ALONE WHY ARE THEY ALONE THEY DON’T WANT TO BE ALONE_ ** ~~

~~~~_"Roman..."_

**_~~STOP IT PLEASE IT HURTS~~ _ **

_"...he's doing well."_

_Good, safe, he's safe, he's safe, where is he_

_Where is he where is he_

_He's safe but where **is he**_

_ "Let me out." _

_ "I can't." _

_ “Please?” _

_ It hurts so much, why does it hurt _

_ They’re  _ **_alone_ **

_ Where is he where is he  _

**_“You’re fine.”_ **

_ “Where is Snakey~” _

_ “ ~~I’m letting you out.”~~ _

**_“LET ME OUT.”_ **

_ “ ~~I’m letting~~ _

~~_ Letting _ ~~

_ Letting _

_ “I’m letting you out.” _

And if there was one thing that was certain when Remus opened their eyes, it was that Remus did not just have a sliver of Imagination.

They were half of a whole, half of a Creativity who would never have made it, and now they were Remus. They were Remus, sibling of Roman, best friend of Dee, friend of Patton, friend of Virgil, friend of Logan, client of Picani, partner in crime of Remy, and the Dark Creativity of one Thomas Sanders.

And they were whole.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh.  
> My.  
> Grapes.
> 
> I JUST FINISHED A STORY


End file.
